42  Q^ 


UNTO  THE  HEIGHTS 
OF  SIMPLICITY 


BY 


JOHANNES    REIMERS 


Man  is  fallen ;  nature  is  erect  and  serves  as  a 
differential  thermometer,  detecting  the  presence  or 
absence  of  the  sentiment  in  man. 

EMERSON. 


BOSTON 
L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY  (INCORPORATED) 

M  D  CCCC 


Copyright,  1900 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 
All  rights  reserved 


Colonial 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C  H.  Simonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS 
OF  SIMPLICITY 


2132543 


Unto  the   Heights  of 
Simplicity 

9 
i 

LYDER  VAN  MEEREN  had  passed  the 
Examen  artium  at  the  Christiania 
University. 

He  and  three  other  youths,  with  downy 
upper  lips  and  white  student  caps,  had 
returned  to  their  respective  homes  in  Ber- 
gen, walking  all  the  way  across  country,  —  a 
feat  which  at  that  time  was  very  fashionable. 

They  had  returned,  these  four  dons  amis, 
with  sunburned  faces  in  place  of  those 
bleached,  tired  countenances  presumed  to  be 
the  result  of  their  ardent  mental  work  in  a 
student's  dingy  attic.  Inhaling  the  fragrance 
from  woods  and  mountain  wastes,  listening  to 
the  song  of  the  cascades  and  the  wild  steps  of 
5 


6  UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

the  wind  across  the  blooming  moors,  they 
forgot  their  dreams  of  future  positions  in 
the  king's  service,  forgot  everything  except 
that  they  were  young. 

Old  Herr  van  Meeren  was  very  proud  of 
his  only  son. 

True,  Lyder  had  passed  anything  but  a 
brilliant  examination ;  but  once  Herr  van 
Meeren  had  despaired  of  ever  seeing  him 
with  the  student's  tasselled  cap.  Lyder  had 
occasioned  his  father  a  great  deal  of  anxiety 
on  account  of  his  unreliability  and  persistent 
lack  of  interest  in  study. 

The  one,  of  all  others,  who  took  the 
most  pride  in  Lyder's  success  was  Helga, 
although,  indeed,  there  had  not  always  been 
a  brotherly  and  sisterly  feeling  between 
the  two. 

He  was  but  a  year  older  than  she,  and 
during  their  childhood  together  he  had 
teased  her  unmercifully ;  besides,  she  could 
not  for  a  long  time  get  rid  of  the  recollection 
of  those  disagreeable  weekly  scenes  between 
her  brother  and  father,  when  Lyder  brought 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY  7 

home  from  school  the  teacher's  written  com- 
plaint of  his  conduct,  — he  did  not  study  his 
lessons  and  often  played  truant.  Yet  Helga, 
with  sisterly  faithfulness,  had  always  begged 
him  to  do  better,  though  all  in  vain.  Lyder 
preferred  to  roam  far  into  the  lonely  moun- 
tains, where  he  found  a  happiness,  the  source 
of  which  his  boyish  mind  did  not  compre- 
hend. So,  week  after  week,  it  was  the  same 
thing  over  again,  until  Helga  had  come  to 
feel  almost  a  dislike  for  her  brother. 

In  those  days  the  only  one  who  showed 
Lyder  sympathy  was  his  mother. 

"  He  is  such  a  handsome  boy,"  she  said 
to  her  sister,  the  childless  widow  of  a  high 
official.  "  He  shows  such  refined  interests 
and  inclinations." 

She  was  a  beautiful  woman,  Fru  van 
Meeren,  and  must  have  been  still  more  so  in 
her  youth.  But  her  gay  laughter  had  dis- 
appeared with  the  years,  and  something  hard 
would  now  often  show  itself  in  her  expres- 
sion. She  lived  a  retired  and  — so  her  friends 
said  —  an  embittered  life,  in  her  large, 


8  UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

antique  Hanseatic  mansion  behind  the  high, 
well-kept  hawthorn  hedges. 

Between  Herr  van  Meeren  and  his  wife 
existed  none  of  that  warmth  which  makes 
home  happy.  His  cold,  polite  conduct  to- 
wards her  was  not  merely  the  result  of  his 
business  habits. 

The  children  had  never  seen  it  otherwise, 
and  noticed  it  only  in  a  vague,  half-compre- 
hending way ;  but  other  people,  who  thought 
they  knew  all  about  it,  spoke  of  the  why 
and  wherefore,  —  Herr  van  Meeren  had  not 
been  true  to  his  wife,  and  she  was  aware  of 
the  fact. 

In  her  somewhat  haughty  way,  she  seemed 
all  absorbed  in  her  household,  looking  after 
the  many  servants,  who,  far  from  loving  her, 
gossiped  of  the  proud,  mute  manner  in 
which  she  treated  her  husband. 

But  now,  when  Lyder  had  returned  and 
given  them  all  so  much  happiness,  Helga 
forgave  him,  and  came  nearer  to  him,  day 
after  day,  through  her  visible,  sisterly  pride 
and  love.  She  began  to  think  that  if  she 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY  9 

had  shown  him  that  long  ago,  she  might 
have  had  far  more  influence  over  him  ;  and 
in  consequence  she  blamed  herself  for  part  of 
his  failings. 

Lyder  was  certainly  attractive  to  look 
upon,  in  his  light-coloured  summer  suit  and 
white  student  cap  adorned  with  a  cockade 
bearing  the  miniature  head  of  Minerva  in 
silver,  with  his  soft  intimation  of  a  blond 
mustache,  his  light  hair,  curled  about  the 
ears ;  and  then  his  nonchalance  of  manners, 
the  very  way  he  tipped  his  cap,  —  ah,  there 
were  times  when  he  perfectly  fascinated  her. 
It  filled  her  with  the  happiest  sensation 
of  pride  to  walk  with  him  evenings  on 
"  Smaastrandgaden,"  the  fashionable  boule- 
vard, where,  leaning  on  his  arm,  she  read 
envy  in  the  glances  of  her  girl  friends. 

The  four  dons  amis,  those  happy-go-lucky 
young  academicians,  had  become  the  lions  of 
the  season.  They  were  the  centre  of  a 
great  deal  of  gayety,  —  picnics  and  soirees  at 
summer  villas. 

Such  an  autumn  as  that,  Helga  had  never 


IO        UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

before  seen.  Nobody  remembered  having 
plucked  roses  and  dahlias  as  late  as  they  did 
that  year.  The  fiord  glittered  in  the  sun- 
shine, under  a  cloudless  sky;  the  distant 
islands  seemed  surprisingly  near  through 
that  limpid  air;  the  high  mountains  stood 
steely  hard  and  blue.  Everything  had  be- 
come delightful.  Helga  fluttered  from  one 
enjoyment  to  another,  half  in  love  with  Jens 
Birk. 

She  could  not  deny  that  he  was  very 
dashing,  perhaps  a  little  too  forward;  but 
interesting,  nevertheless. 

For  all  that,  Lyder  had  lost  none  of  his 
charm  for  her.  His  company  aided  her  in 
her  little  coquetries;  and,  as  she  said  to 
herself  almost  in  ecstasy  one  night,  when 
undressing  in  her  cozy  room  after  a  ball  at 
Richter's,  "What  pleasure,  what  happi- 
ness, to  be  a  little  coquettish ! "  Then,  as 
an  afterthought,  "  Karen  Schl utter  said  after 
a  waltz  with  Lyder,  in  her  silly,  gushing 
way,  '  He  is  so  sweet,  Helga.'  True,  very 
true;  but  Karen  could  have  kept  it  to  her- 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY         II 

self,  at  least  not  have  said  it  so  he  could 
hear  it." 

Why,  was  she  becoming  jealous  of  her 
own  brother? 

Lyder  was  certainly  drawing  nearer  to  his 
father. 

Herman  van  Meeren  began  to  believe  his 
son  was  one  to  be  proud  of,  after  all.  He 
even  condescended  to  speak  to  him  about 
some  of  his  business  affairs.  His  new  feel- 
ings escaped  him  unexpectedly  one  evening, 
when,  accompanied  by  Lyder,  he  took  his 
usual  walk  to  "  Svartedig,"  a  tarn  among 
high,  dark  mountains. 

After  that,  he  had  trusted  Lyder  with 
some  of  his  minor  bank  transactions,  and 
under  the  influence  of  his  son's  youthful 
companionship  had  joined  one  of  the  young 
people's  picnics,  where  he  astonished  every- 
body by  being  extremely  jovial. 

Herr  van  Meeren  looked  like  a  well-kept 
ledger,  written  in  the  most  exact  hand- 
writing and  scrupulously  clean ;  you  could 
hardly  imagine  him  unbending,  and  indeed 


11         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

he  himself  apparently  thought  he  had  gone 
too  far  and  made  himself  laughable,  for  soon 
afterwards  he  withdrew  still  more  into  his 
lonely  life  with  its  unexpressed  thoughts. 

"  Poor  papa,"  said  Helga,  laughing,  "  he 
tried  to  be  jolly,  but  gave  it  up  in  despair. 
Poor  papa ! " 

And  who  knows  if  he  had  not  tried  to 
make  a  change,  —  if  he  had  not,  perhaps  for 
the  hundredth  time,  tried  to  smooth  away 
that  which  kept  his  wife  at  such  a  great 
distance  from  him,  —  now  that  Lyder  had 
returned  and  was  giving  them  both  so  much 
satisfaction?  —  Ah,  if  only  she  would  forgive 
and  forget! 

But  Herr  van  Meeren  did  not  receive 
what  he  hoped  for;  the  past  was  not 
forgotten. 

The  reaction  from  this  summer  of  sun- 
shine was  agreeable  to  none.  Herr  van 
Meeren  complained  of  hard  times  and  an 
increasing  unrest  in  business  circles.  He 
visited  the  club  more  frequently;  when  at 
home,  he  was  often  irritable  towards  the 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        13 

young  people,  though  invariably  polite  to 
his  wife.  The  companion  he  had  lost  in 
her,  he  found  little  by  little  in  Helga. 

Almost  every  evening  he  and  his  daughter 
walked  together.  Not  much  was  said  be- 
tween them ;  still  they  enjoyed  each  other's 
silent  companionship.  Herr  van  Meeren 
would  watch  Helga  as  she  strolled  off  by 
some  side-path,  picking  autumn  leaves  and 
belated  flowers,  and  wait  for  her,  patiently 
leaning  on  his  ivory-headed  cane,  until  she 
returned;  then  just  as  quietly  they  went  on 
their  way  to  the  -tarns. 

Once  arrived  there,  they  would  seat  them- 
selves on  a  bench  from  which  they  over- 
looked the  dark  water.  The  mountains  rose 
in  great  threatening  masses ;  but  here  in 
the  peaceful  autumnal  evening  Herr  van 
Meeren  forgot  his  troubles,  here  he  rested. 

After  a  while,  they  would  walk  slowly 
home,  greeting  those  whom  they  met  on 
their  way,  peasants  for  the  most  part,  re- 
turning from  town  with  large  empty  wooden 
milk  vessels  strapped  to  their  backs,  and 


14         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

sometimes  smaller  ones  in  either  arm ;  all 
patiently  plodding  their  way  to  the  small 
rocky  farms  far  back  among  the  mountains. 

Lyder  had  now  returned  to  the  university 
to  carry  on  his  studies  for  the  second  ex- 
amination. He  went  leaving  a  little  girl 
behind,  who  did  not  know  certainly  whether 
she  was  quite  engaged  to  him  or  not. 

Helga  too  longed  for  him.  She  missed 
him  at  the  balls  and  soirees ;  she  missed  him 
especially  at  home,  now  the  evenings  were 
growing  so  very  long.  She  had  gotten  over 
her  possible  fancy  for  Jens  Birk ;  he  was 
not  the  kind  of  man  she  could  love.  There 
was  nothing  in  his  mental  self  to  attract  her. 
She  had  grown  tired  of  his  bold  witticisms. 
She  was  becoming  disgusted  with  society 
itself,  —  with  the  foppish,  empty-headed 
young  men  who  surrounded  her;  with  the 
silly,  gushing  girls,  lacking  any  high  or 
noble  interests. 

And  the  silent  friendship  between  her  and 
her  father  grew  stronger  day  by  day. 

She  began  to  have  a  vague  feeling  that 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY         15 

there  was  something  unspoken  which  op- 
pressed her  father ;  that  he  wanted  to  open 
his  heart  to  her,  but  could  not. 

Sometimes,  alone  in  her  room,  Helga  would 
ask  herself  why  she  had  not  put  her  arm  about 
him  and  caressed  him?  Surely  that  some- 
thing would  then  have  melted  away ;  surely 
he  would  not  have  resented  such  caresses. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  that  was  what  he  was  long- 
ing for, —  more  love,  more  caresses.  It  did 
not  enter  her  mind  that  there  was  one  as 
near,  yes,  nearer  than  she,  to  give  both  to 
him. 

"  Mamma  is  so  refined,  so  well-bred,  of  such 
an  old  aristocratic  family.  Mamma  is  so 
beautiful,  so  noble,  so  reserved,  so  above  all 
others."  Such  was  Helga's  impression  of 
her  mother. 

She  made  up  her  mind  that  if  it  was 
caresses  her  father  wanted,  she  would  give 
them  to  him. 

But  the  result  was  the  same,  —  that  some- 
thing came  always  between  them.  And  still 
they  knew  they  loved  each  other. 


1 6        UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

Winter  had  come. 

One  evening  as  father  and  daughter  stood 
overlooking  the  tarns,  watching  the  high 
snow-covered  mountains  dip  their  glowing 
crests  in  the  mirroring  water,  Herr  van 
Meeren  took  Helga's  hand  and  held  it 
securely.  She  could  not  remember  his  ever 
having  done  so  before,  not  since  she  was 
very  small.  He  spoke  to  her  of  the  great- 
ness of  nature,  its  wonderful  changing  moods, 
so  impressive  to  the  human  mind  if  one  but 
opened  his  soul  to  its  influence. 

There  came  something  almost  happy  into 
his  gray,  expressive  eyes,  as  he  glanced  at 
her  and  again  looked  out  over  the  tarns, 
settling  back  to  his  own  silent  thoughts. 

Why  did  she  not  at  that  time  return  the 
pressure  of  his  hand  ?  Why  did  she  let  it 
slowly  glide  away  from  her?  She  blamed 
herself  over  and  over;  yet  she  could  not 
have  done  otherwise,  for  that  something  had 
been  there  standing  between  them.  She 
could  only  nod.  Did  he  read  in  her  eyes 
what  she  felt? 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         1 7 

She  commenced  to  sing  Grieg's  "  Cradle 
Song."  It  blended  well  with  the  winter 
evening's  melancholy  freshness,  and  with 
the  snow-covered  mountains  in  the  fading 
light. 

And  Herr  van  Meeren  sat  longer  than 
usual,  for  he  listened  to  Helga's  singing. 
She  put  her  whole  soul  into  the  melody ;  the 
tears  came  to  her  eyes. 

She  had  a  voice  of  no  great  power,  but 
delightfully  soft  in  all  its  cadences,  so  home- 
like, so  well  suited  to  the  romances  of  the 
Norse  composers.  When  she  sang  at  home, 
Herr  van  Meeren  invariably  put  aside  the 
newspaper  and  listened,  but  never  before 
had  she  seemed  to  him  to  sing  so  charm- 
ingly as  on  that  evening. 

"  Beautiful,  beautiful ! "  he  said,  as  if  to 
himself,  when  she  had  finished. 

"  Happy  will  be  the  one  who  shares  his 
home  with  her"  he  thought;  and  involun- 
tarily the  young  men  of  their  acquaintance 
passed  in  review  before  his  inner  eye.  There 

was  not  one  he  did  not  discard,  —  empty- 

a 


1 8         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

headed,  arrogant,  most  of  them  returning 
from  a  few  years  abroad  with  a  demeanour 
as  if  they  had  conquered  a  world,  but  who, 
if  left  to  their  own  resources,  would  sink  far 
below  recognition  in  the  whirling  stream  of 
human  competition. 

Then  his  thoughts  dropped  back  to  his 
business. 


II 

SPRING  brought  Lyder  back  again  from 
the  university. 

He  had  written  home  that  he  had  lost 
interest  in  his  studies,  that  he  believed  he 
would  make  a  better  merchant  than  lawyer, 
and  that  if  his  father  would  give  him  a  posi- 
tion in  the  office,  he  would  work  satisfactorily, 
and  perhaps  some  day  become  almost  as  good 
a  merchant  as  his  successful  forefathers. 

Herman  van  Meeren  &  Son,  thought 
Lyder,  and  later  on,  Lyder.  van  Meeren. 

He  wrote  both  forms  several  times  on  a 
slip  of  paper,  but  wisely  not  in  the  letter. 
Yes,  it  sounded  and  looked  well ;  he  practised 
it  over  and  over  again,  —  Herman  van  Meeren 
&  Son,  with  a  great  flourish  below  it. 

Herr  van  Meeren  felt  somewhat  disap- 
pointed at  first.  He  would  rather  have  seen 
his  son  in  some  secure  government  position. 
Trade  was  by  no  means  as  profitable  as  it 


2O         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

used  to  be.  The  lower  classes  were  getting 
better  schooled,  more  independent,  —  all  of 
which  made  competition  greater. 

With  the  worst  apprehensions  for  the 
future,  Herr  van  Meeren  saw  the  steady 
onward  march  of  the  middle  class  into  social 
as  well  as  mercantile  and  political  influence. 
He  prophesied  great  calamities  that  would 
befall  a  people  losing  respect  for  its  God- 
ordained  rulers,  where  the  poor,  penniless 
wretches  of  society  thought,  yes,  dared  to 
express  openly  their  opinion  that  they  had 
the  same  rights  as  the  wealthy  and  educated. 

Herr  van  Meeren  was  a  strong  conserva- 
tive royalist,  and  looked  askance  at  the  proph- 
ets of  the  new  spirit;  at  these  youngsters, 
these  tailors  and  shoemakers,  yes,  even  peas- 
ants and  labourers,  who  wanted  to  be  heard, 
who  laughed  at  what  they  chose  to  call  the 
antiquated  laws  of  society,  —  laws  under 
which  the  country  had  been  prosperous  for 
a  hundred  years. 

And,  what  was  worse,  there  were  those  of 
the  educated  —  should  he  call  them  better 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        21 

classes  ?  —  who  joined  in  this  down-cry  of  old 
institutions. 

No  wonder  times  were  getting  hard,  that 
one  business  venture  after  another  failed, 
that  the  old  profits  of  his  youth  and  of  his 
forefathers  seemed  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Herman  van  Meeren  had  the  bulk  of  his 
capital  invested  in  large  sailing  vessels  which 
ploughed  all  known  seas,  proudly  flying  the 
Norwegian  flag  in  distant  harbours.  During 
the  fisheries,  he  had  quite  a  fleet  of  smaller 
craft,  schooners  and  fishing-smacks,  at  Ice- 
land, Lofoten,  and  Finmarken. 

But  the  freight  rates  of  sailing  vessels  had 
reached  low-water  mark ;  the  Iceland  fisheries 
were  not  always  a  success,  very  often  a  total 
failure. 

And  these  same  men,  these  radicals,  who 
had  succeeded  through  false  promises  to  the 
people  in  sneaking  into  the  Storthing, —  these 
same  men  had  the  audacity  to  tell  the  ex- 
perienced merchants  of  that  old  Hanseatic 
city  that  the  steady  increase  in  the  use  of 
steamers  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  just  as 


22         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

steadily  declining  freight  rates  of  sailing 
vessels. 

Herr  van  Meeren  and  the  whole  Board 
of  Exchange,  of  which  he  was  a  member, 
laughed  at  this  idea.  Steamers  would  never 
pay  for  long  distances,  they  said ;  yet  the 
freight  rates  went  down ;  the  Iceland  fish- 
eries were  almost  a  failure  for  several  years 
in  succession ;  no  wonder  Herr  van  Meeren 
bethought  himself  before  he  consented  to  his 
son's  mercantile  plans. 

But  it  won't  last,  he  thought ;  better  times 
will  soon  come  —  they  must. 

It  had  always  been  so ;  the  best  times  in- 
variably succeeded  the  hardest. 

So  Lyder  van  Meeren  was  permitted  to 
occupy  a  seat  in  his  father's  office,  at  the 
large,  old-fashioned  desk. 

"  Herman  van  Meeren  &  Son,"  whispered 
his  imagination  to  him,  and  he  practised 
writing  it  on  waste  paper  with  that  artistic 
flourish  beneath  it.  After  a  while  he  grew 
careless,  and  one  day  the  senior  member  of 
the  imaginary  firm  became  accidentally 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        23 

aware  of  several  such  signatures  which  had 
found  their  way  to  the  waste-basket. 

Herr  van  Meeren  laughed  aloud,  and 
shook  his  head. 

That  black  cloud  of  hard  times  rested 
thicker  than  ever  right  overhead,  and  at  the 
horizon  sparkled  the  free  thoughts,  —  the 
spirit  of  the  time,  like  ugly  streaks  of  light- 
ning ;  and  a  murmur  of  distant  thunder, 
the  voices  of  the  oppressed  masses,  became 
louder  day  by  day. 

And  then  that  bitterness  in  his  heart,  that 
shadow  of  doubt,  his  wife's  lack  of  confi- 
dence in  him,  the  cold,  unforgiving,  colour- 
less way  in  which  she  looked  at  him  and  still 
did  not  see  him,  this  beautiful,  proud  woman, 
proud  of  her  old  family,  —  too  proud  to  for- 
give him  that  one  sin.  Could  she  never  for- 
get the  past?  Never  again  surround  him 
with  the  warmth  and  sunshine  in  which  they 
had  lived  during  the  first  years  of  their  mar- 
riage ?  "  Marriage  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  his 
thoughts.  "  Marriage  !  If  this  is  marriage, 
it  is  degrading,  embittering ;  when  one  has 


24         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

promised  what  one  cannot  keep,  what  per- 
haps circumstances  make  it  impossible  to 
keep,  when  temptation  steals  upon  one  like 
the  thief  in  the  night,  when,  intoxicated  with 
life,  one's  will  is  gone,  and  the  blood  sweeps 
on  with  checkless  rapidity  through  the  veins." 

It  was  long,  long  ago. 

Now  age  had  laid  its  cooling  influence  on 
his  gray  head.  Had  he  felt  then  as  he  did 
now,  never,  never  should  it  have  happened  ! 
Had  he  not  begged  his  wife  to  forgive  him  ? 

Had  he  not  told  her  that  he  loved  her? 
That  his  love  for  her  had  lost  nothing  of  its 
strength,  that  she  was  the  only  one  he  had 
ever  loved  ?  Did  she  wish  him  to  go  to  her 
in  confession  and  beg  for  mercy  all  through 
life  ?  Never  !  Never  ! 

But  the  harmony,  the  warmth,  the  happi- 
ness, love  which  makes  home  a  home,  which 
makes  of  two,  man  and  wife  —  gone !  gone 
forever ! 

And  that  woman  whose  mere  bodily 
charms  had  tempted  him  and  made  him 
tempt  her,  how  he  hated  her !  What  a  whirl 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         25 

of  contradictions,  what  a  chaos  of  unhealed 
diseases,  pestered  the  body  of  civilised 
society !  Yet  such  it  has  always  been,  such 
it  will  always  be,  he  told  himself. 

The  woman  had  bothered  him  with  her 
continual  demands  for  money,  which,  when 
he  gave  it  to  her,  she  so  sadly  misused. 
And  when  once  he  had  refused  her  more, 
she  had  carried  out  her  threat  and  betrayed 
him  to  his  wife. 

He  suspected  that  she  still  annoyed  his 
wife  with  such  demands,  but  he  had  not 
the  courage  to  ask. 

Meanwhile  times  grew  harder. 


Ill 

THE  Van  Meeren  mansion  was  built  of 
wood,  and  dated   back  to  the  latter 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

It  had  a  large  veranda  sunk  into  the  cen- 
tre of  the  fa9ade,  supported  by  heavy,  fluted 
pillars  with  Doric  capitals,  reaching  to  the 
height  of  both  storeys.  The  large  windows, 
double  in  winter,  consisted  of  many  small 
panes  of  rather  inferior  glass.  Back  of  the 
high  stone  wall  having  a  sloping  roof  of  blue 
glazed  tiles,  and  two  heavily  ironed,  spiked 
ports,  lay  the  large  terraced  garden,  with  its 
century-old  lindens  and  lilacs,  its  grotesque 
wooden  statuary,  and  high,  well-trimmed 
hedges ;  its  stiff  beds,  with  old-fashioned 
Dutch  flowers  and  long  rows  of  gooseberry 
and  currant  bushes.  Scaling  the  mountain, 
back  of  the  house,  was  a  forest  of  some  size, 
of  hazel,  birch,  and  rowan  trees,  with  winding 
trails  and  jutting  ivy-covered  rocks,  and  a 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         27 

few  immense  white  beeches,  which  had  stood 
there  for  centuries,  since  the  time,  indeed, 
when  all  the  surrounding  hills  and  grass- 
lands were  included  in  the  bishop's  garden. 

The  king's  highway,  broad  and  well  kept, 
lined  on  either  side  with  lindens,  ran  in 
front. 

This  summer  evening  the  lindens  were  in 
full  bloom,  and  the  air  was  heavy  with  moist 
warmth  and  an  undefinable  mixture  of  per- 
fumes from  the  fields  and  gardens. 

A  few  stray  clouds  burned  in  the  sunset 
sky. 

The  fiord  at  the  foot  of  the  hills  lay 
smooth  and  unruffled,  like  the  softest  satin. 
Some  sparrows  were  still  quarrelling  in  the 
dense  crowns  of  the  tall  trees. 

Lyder  was  just  going  to  open  the  portal 
and  enter,  when  he  saw  a  girl  coming  down 
the  elevated  sidewalk  towards  town. 

He  had  noticed  her  before.  She  was  one 
of  the  servants  in  a  neighbouring  family, 
presumably  the  Richters'. 

Lyder  waited  to  let  her  pass. 


28         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

She  was  tall,  well  shaped,  with  large  blue 
eyes  in  an  oval,  pale,  dimpled  face. 

One  would  never  have  thought  her  a 
peasant  girl,  had  it  not  been  for  the  white 
embroidered  kerchief  tied  over  her  head. 

This  was  all  that  remained  of  her  peasant 
costume  except  a  silver  filigree  pin  fastened 
at  her  throat  in  the  plain  black  woollen 
dress. 

She  returned  his  look  with  a  short,  uneasy 
glance,  and  before  Lyder  fully  comprehended 
what  he  was  doing,  he  had  let  go  the  latch 
of  the  portal  and  followed  her. 

He  walked  faster  than  she,  and  as  he 
passed  her,  she  hurriedly  looked  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

After  a  while  he  returned  and  passed  her 
once  more.  When  he  looked  at  her  now, 
she  slowly  withdrew  her  eyes. 

"  My  God,"  he  spoke  to  himself,  "my  God, 
how  beautiful  she  is  ! " 

And  that  pale  face,  that  slender,  finely 
formed  body,  haunted  him  for  days  after. 
She  stood  before  him  when  he  least  ex- 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         29 

pected  it,  —  so  plainly  seen,  so  very  desirable. 
Her  fair  skin,  almost  pale,  but  not  dead  — 
oh,  no  —  in  his  mind  he  had  let  her  smile 
to  him  with  that  wonderful  expression  of 
those  heavily-lidded  eyes.  He  wondered  if 
that  was  the  way  she  really  smiled. 

Lyder  had  grown  tired  of  writing  the 
imaginary  signature  of  Herman  van  Meeren 
&  Son.  To  be  honest  with  himself,  he  ad- 
mitted he  had  grown  heartily  tired  of  the 
whole  office  and  the  smell  of  dried  cod  and 
cod-liver  oil. 

Now  summer  was  come,  he  began  to 
feel  like  a  bird  in  a  cage.  He  longed  for 
the  large  world  outside,  and  sent  a  yearn- 
ing thought  with  the  ships,  which,  all  sails 
set,  flew  off  to  warmer  seas  and  countries, 
of  richer,  gayer  colours,  under  a  bluer  sky. 

Oh,  if  he  could  throw  it  all  off  !     Out,  out ! 

He  would  leave  the  old  Adam  in  him 
behind,  step  out  in  the  great  world  a  new 
and  freer  man,  with  only  his  good  qualities 
predominating. 


3O         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Why  not  go  to  Brazil  and  become  a 
planter  ? 

Then  he  dreamed  of  a  large  hacienda, 
and  of  a  house  with  broad  verandas  in  a 
tropical  garden,  and  of  black-eyed  Spanish 
women.  He  would  keep  many  slaves  to 
whom  he  would  be  very  kind. 

He  dreamed  of  a  new  generation  of  Van 
Meerens,  still  more  powerful,  more  aristo- 
cratic, more  renowned,  than  the  old  family 
in  that  ancient  Hanseatic  town. 

Lyder  van  Meeren  —  the  trunk  of  that 
new  tree  extending  its  branches  in  time  all 
over  the  civilised  world  —  a  second  Roth- 
schild ! 

Ah,  and  the  fragrance  on  board  those 
vessels  coming  home  from  the  tropical 
countries,  —  the  fragrance  of  spices  ! 

The  sunburned  sailors,  the  strange  trink- 
ets which  he  imagined  must  have  been 
bought  from  some  fair  southern  maiden ! 
Lyder  van  Meeren  had  barely  reached 
twenty. 

But  hiding  all  this,  when  he  least  expected 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         3! 

it,  stood  that  pale,  oval  face  with  the  heavily- 
lidded  blue  eyes  smiling  at  him. 

One  day  that  pale,  dimpled  face  really 
smiled  upon  Lyder  —  not  just  as  in  his 
dreams  of  her,  more  temptingly  even,  show- 
ing a  row  of  perfect  white  teeth. 

He  made  up  his  mind  that  he  must  speak 
to  her.  They  smiled  at  each  other  now 
whenever  they  met;  but  he  could  never 
muster  courage  enough,  in  fact,  there  had 
never  been  an  opportunity,  to  speak;  there 
was  always  some  one  near,  who  might  see 
and  report,  and  that  —  why,  that  would 
never  do.  But  in  his  thoughts  he  had 
already  embraced  her  and  whispered  to  her 
what  he  ought  not,  though  he  could  not 
feel  sure  that  she  would  have  responded. 

Herr  van  Meeren  kept  his  son  under 
close  surveillance.  He  allowed  him  no 
official  liberties  which  he  would  not  have 
given  as  well  to  any  of  his  clerks.  He 
insisted  upon  Lyder's  being  at  the  office 
on  time,  morning  and  afternoon.  Lyder 
was  punctual  for  a  while,  then  he  com- 


32         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

menced  to  lag;  and  Herr  van  Meeren  went 
so  far  once  as  to  reprimand  his  son  in  the 
presence  of  his  clerks. 

Lyder,  pallid  with  anger,  looked  defiantly 
at  his  father,  but  did  not  answer.  Later 
on  he  complained  to  his  fond  mother,  who 
in  her  haughty  way  asked  her  husband  if 
such  a  thing  could  be  possible. 

Herr  van  Meeren  laid  aside  the  paper  he 
was  trying  to  read. 

He  came  near  giving  a  sharp  answer,  but 
bethought  himself. 

"  Madame,"  he  said  politely,  "  I  demand 
order  in  my  office ;  I  do  not  want  my  own 
son  to  set  a  poor  example;  besides — " 

But  Fru  van  Meeren  had  left  the  room. 

When  liberated  from  the  office,  Lyder 
generally  went  straight  home. 

He  and  Helga  worked  in  the  garden 
after  supper,  where  they  planted  and  watered 
and  sang  together.  They  cut  and  dug  trails 
in  the  forest,  finding  there  shady  nooks 
and  cool  grottoes  under  the  overhanging 
cliffs,  which  formerly  had  been  hidden  be- 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        33 

hind  the  dense  undergrowth  of  ferns  and 
bushes. 

When  thus  occupied,  they  were  children 
again.  These  peaceful  groves  became  their 
fairyland,  where  the  din  of  the  city  near  by 
had  lost  its  nervous  restlessness,  and  the 
rumble  of  heavily-loaded  carts  over  the 
rough  cobble-stones  came  wafted  to  them 
in  faint  murmurs. 

Outside  was  the  world,  the  busy,  restless 
world,  with  its  incessant  strife,  with  its  hopes 
and  its  disappointments,  its  pains  and  its 
fleeting  pleasures ;  inside,  the  music  of  na- 
ture, the  fragrance  of  flowers. 

Now  for  the  first  time  did  they  fully 
understand  each  other,  and  comprehend 
how  much  they  had  in  common.  Helga 
had  never  sung  so  beautifully,  Lyder  never 
felt  so  happy,  so  liberated  from  the  restless- 
ness in  him,  as  when  during  the  long  limpid 
summer  nights  of  their  northland  they  gave 
themselves  into  the  care  of  Mother  Nature. 

But,  for  all  this,  the  pale,  dimpled  face, 
framed  by  the  snow-white  kerchief,  the  heavy 

3 


34         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

blue  eyes,  the  slender  body  in  the  tightly- 
fitting,  plain  black  dress,  would  never  leave 
him.  No  matter  how  much  he  tried  to 
drive  them  away,  they  stood  before  him 
when  he  least  expected,  flitting  across  the 
trails,  greeting  him  from  among  the  leaves. 

Did  he  love  this  girl  ? 

A  Van  Meeren  love  a  peasant ! 
.  Whence,  then,  her  power  ? 

She  seemed  omnipresent  in  his  mind,  and 
yet  he  had  never  spoken  to  her;  in  fact, 
there  were  times  when  he  felt  he  would 
rather  not  —  as  if  her  smile  was  all  he 
wanted  —  anything  more  would  break  the 
spell. 

But  not  always  were  Lyder's  thoughts 
so  platonic.  It  was  only  in  the  forest  or 
among  the  flowers,  under  the  spell  of  na- 
ture. More  than  once  had  he  been  on 
the  point  of  speaking  to  Helga  concerning 
all  this;  but  something  kept  him  from  it. 

He  believed  himself  to  have  made  the 
discovery  that  women  do  not  understand 
their  sex.  Out  in  life,  he  noticed  women 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY        35 

were  cruel  to  other  women,  much  more  so 
than  were  men.  And  what  was  this  won- 
derful something,  forbidden  yet  so  very 
natural,  which  with  but  abnormal  excep- 
tions existed  between  the  opposite  sexes? 

Love!  love!  was  it  love?  If  so,  he 
loved,  and  —  was  it  wrong  ?  "  Under  re- 
strictions," answered  Christian  society,  "you 
may  love." 

No,  Helga  would  not  understand,  Helga 
was  a  woman ;  and  as  for  the  other  one,  he 
did  not  even  know  her  name,  nor  whence 
she  came ;  she  was  a  woman,  and  he  a  man, 
that  was  all  he  knew. 

That  open  smile,  those  eyes,  the  slow, 
graceful  way  of  walking,  she  could  not  have 
come  from  any  of  the  narrow  inland  fiords, 
where  the  mountains  cast  their  eternal 
shadows  over  the  homes  of  the  peasant. 
She  must  have  come  from  out  among  the 
islands,  where  the  sun  laughs  over  broad 
waters,  and  sea-birds  take  their  long,  free 
flight  over  humming  waves. 

"  Eh,  Lyder  van  Meeren,"  thus  he  inter- 


36         UNTO  THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

rupted  his  own  thoughts,  "  thou  art  in  love 
with  a  common  peasant  girl." 

Yet  why  common  ?  Surely  there  was 
nothing  coarse  about  her. 

Jens  Birk,  and  those  other  bans  amis  of 
his,  could  not  understand  what  was  the 
matter  with  Lyder.  He  never  came  to  the 
club  any  more;  he  went  very  little  in 
society  and  seemed  always  in  a  hurry  to 
get  home.  It  was  ridiculous  for  a  young 
fellow  like  him  to  have  said  good-bye  al- 
ready to  the  gladness  of  youth. 

To  Lyder,  this  jolly  circle  seemed  for  the 
first  time  coarse.  He  wondered  how  he 
ever  could  have  enjoyed  their  society. 

Herr  van  Meeren  now  generally  took 
his  long  walks  alone.  He  saw  that  Helga 
preferred  to  be  with  Lyder,  and  he  cared 
little  for  his  son;  the  two  did  not  feel  at 
ease  in  each  other's  company. 

Lyder  irritated  his  father  by  his  visible 
lack  of  interest  in  the  work.  The  spirit  of 
the  woods,  the  mountains,  the  flowers,  the 
lakes,  and  the  fiord  combined  to  make  Lyder 


UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY        37 

indifferent  to  his  work.  It  seemed  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  be  at  the  office  at  regular 
hours. 

Herr  van  Meeren  may  have  understood 
the  reason  of  his  son's  negligence,  but  he 
simply  said, "  First  duty,  then  pleasure."  Of 
course,  he  failed  to  analyse  the  benefits  to 
himself  from  the  daily  long  walks  which  he 
enjoyed  so  much.  The  source  of  that  peace 
which  these  few  hours  of  daily  contact 
with  nature  brought  to  his  mind,  he  never 
searched  for. 

Soon  he  did  not  even  miss  Helga's  com- 
pany. He  nodded  to  the  peasants  he  met 
walking  the  king's  highway.  There  came 
to  be  a  kind  of  acquaintance  between  him 
and  those  he  passed  regularly  on  his  walks, 
though  he  never  spoke  to  one  of  them. 

But  times  were  growing  harder;  one  old 
business  house  after  another  collapsed. 

Herr  van  Meeren  bore  his  burden  of 
anxieties  alone.  His  wife  had  no  sympa- 
thy with  him;  the  past  was  not  forgotten. 

He  laughed  scornfully  when  he  thought 


38         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

of  those  signatures  of  Herman  van  Meeren 
&  Son. 

"  Father  does  not  comprehend  me,"  Lyder 
complained  to  Helga  and  his  fond  mother. 
And  the  distance  between  father  and  son 
grew  greater  and  greater;  they  had  grown 
to  be  almost  strangers. 


IV 


THE  silence  of  winter  again  lay  over  the 
Norwegian  mountains  and  valleys. 
The  sky  was  gray,  the  wind  increased,  and 
then  the  snowflakes  began  their  merry  dance, 
adding  to  the  depth  of  that  soft  white  carpet 
already  laid  over  the  slumbering  earth  in  the 
far  northlands. 

The  old,  old  trees  in  the  park  stood  firm 
under  their  heavy  burden ;  the  hawthorn 
hedges  looked  almost  a  solid  mass  of  white- 
ness ;  but  the  sparrows  found  shelter  among 
the  stunted,  crooked  twigs.  They  cuddled 
themselves  up  and  longed  for  spring  and 
plenty  of  food. 

In  the  glittering,  frost-cold  nights,  when 
the  aurora  flashed  restlessly  over  the  deep, 
starry  sky ;  or  when  the  moon  cast  the  fan- 
tastic shadows  of  the  trees  upon  the  smooth, 
glittering  snow-blanket,  —  Helga  and  Lyder 


4O        UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

stood  by  one  of  the  large,  small-paned  win- 
dows in  the  dining-room. 

He  laid  his  arm  lightly  around  her,  and 
there  they  stood,  as  often,  until  late,  mak- 
ing plans  for  the  future,  confiding  to  each 
other  their  thoughts  and  longings,  gaining  in 
mutual  understanding  and  affection. 

It  was  Christmas. 

Should  they  have  a  ball  this  year?  Fru 
van  Meeren  felt  quite  ashamed  that  the  chil- 
dren had  been  invited  everywhere  and  as  yet 
had  done  nothing  in  return. 

Invitations  to  the  Van  Meeren  ball  were 
sent  in  all  directions. 

It  was  an  elegant  affair. 

The  large  old-fashioned  rooms,  with  their 
immense,  antique  iron  stoves,  shone  with 
light  from  the  glittering  crystal  crowns  and 
candelabra,  while  the  air  was  heavy  with 
warmth  and  the  perfume  of  salted  roses. 

The  large  ball-room,  grotesquely  frescoed, 
lay  on  one  side  of  the  hall  and  the  broad 
winding  staircase.  Every  time  the  veranda 
door  opened,  the  quaint  hall  lantern  of 


UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY        4! 

wrought  iron,  struck  by  the  draught,  growled 
on  its  hinges  at  all  this  modern  gayety,  re- 
membering—  the  poor  old  thing!  —  the 
times  of  the  first  Van  Meerens. 

The  high-backed  ebony  chairs,  bright  with 
golden  leather,  had  been  freed  from  their 
dust  covers  and  shone  in  all  their  antique 
beauty. 

The  marbled  floors,  the  tables  laden  with 
heirlooms  of  silver  and  porcelain,  the  home- 
made, crocheted  antimacassars  on  the  im- 
mense hair-cloth  sofas,  seemed  a  strange 
mixture,  and  told  of  family  history  and  taste 
for  almost  two  hundred  years. 

At  the  broad  entrance  of  the  drawing- 
room  stood  the  host  and  hostess  :  Herr  van 
Meeren  aristocratic  and  tall  of  stature,  with 
gray  hair  brushed  into  a  tuft  over  his  fore- 
head, and  high  stiff  collar  wound  around 
with  a  heavy  white  satin  cravat,  stood  by 
the  side  of  his  beautiful  wife,  who  was  clad 
in  a  stiff  black  silk  dress  and  with  a  spark- 
ling diamond  brooch  at  her  throat.  As 
they  stood  there  together,  smiling  and  shak- 


42         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

ing  hands  with  each  new  arrival,  no  one 
could  have  guessed  the  distance  between 
them. 

Helga  and  Lyder  were  busy  introducing 
and  otherwise  looking  after  their  guests. 
Helga  was  radiant  that  evening ;  she  showed 
her  happiness  in  every  movement,  and  Lyder 
was  once  more  one  of  the  old  dons  amis.  He 
had  forgotten  everything  in  the  desire  of 
making  all  happy. 

The  tall  Nuremberg  clock  in  the  hall 
boomed  drowsily,  with  long  rests  between 
each  stroke;  it  belonged  to  the  old,  easy- 
going time. 

"  I  can't  say  another  word  until  that  old 
thing  stops,"  said  Karen  Schllitter,  affectedly. 
She  was  coquetting  with  Jens  Birk.  "  It 
really  makes  me  nervous;  you  don't  know 
whether  it  is  through  or  not  —  there,  now." 

But  that  clock  could  have  told  many 
stories  of  the  good  old  days,  the  time  of  the 
earlier  Van  Meerens,  who  ages  ago  emi- 
grated from  some  Dutch  Hanseatic  city,  and 
who  had  been  so  successful  in  their  adopted 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        43 

country.  Perhaps  they  were  standing  there 
in  the  corners,  unseen,  in  their  powdered 
perukes,  by  the  side  of  their  gentle  dames, 
watching  disdainfully  the  generations  which 
had  grown  up  after  them. 

Yet  Herr  van  Meeren  was  as  gallant  as  a 
courtier. 

He,  too,  had  forgotten  his  troubles  for  a 
little  while,  —  his  ships,  his  calculations,  the 
hard  times,  and  his  past ;  drowned  it  all  in 
this  laughter  and  happiness  around  him,  — 
this  atmosphere  of  youth,  thoughtlessness, 
and  old  wines. 

But  the  dark,  familiar  thoughts  came  to 
him  once,  even  in  all  this  light.  He  hurled 
them  away  and  looked  at  his  wife,  so  well 
preserved,  so  beautiful,  in  her  flushed  excite- 
ment. It  was  long,  long  ago  —  it  seemed  to 
him  an  eternity  —  and  on  just  such  an  even- 
ing as  this,  in  the  intoxicating  whirl  of 
society,  at  her  father's  home,  that  they  had 
joined  hands  for  life. 

Herr  van  Meeren  did  not  sleep  that  night. 
For  hours  after  his  guests  had  left,  he  wan- 


44        UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

dered  back  and  forth  through  the  glaring 
rooms,  imagining  all  the  past.  Outside,  the 
snow  was  falling  listlessly,  covering  up  every- 
thing. 

Oh,  if  she  only  loved  him  !  he  thought. 

The  winter  wound  up  with  a  terrible  storm 
all  along  the  coast.  It  cut  heavily  into  Van 
Meeren's  fishing  fleet ;  but  the  vessels  were 
all  insured,  and  everybody  expected  better 
times  with  the  advent  of  spring. 

Herr  van  Meeren  felt  quite  sure  there 
would  be  a  change,  if  not  —  well,  some  more 
of  the  old  business  houses  in  the  large  cities 
would  collapse  —  that  was  all. 


SPRING  came,  and  very  suddenly.  It 
commenced  to  blow  with  a  warm  air 
from  the  south. 

The  rain  poured  down,  the  snow  melted, 
and  the  water  flowed  in  torrents  towards  the 
sea. 

Small  brooks  became  muddy  rivers ;  and 
the  frozen  cascades,  freed  from  their  fetters, 
succeeded,  with  their  deep  boom  of  falling 
water,  in  making  a  strong  impression  upon 
expectant  Nature. 

What  a  busy  time  they  had,  all  the  little 
roots  in  the  soft,  black  mould  up  in  the 
sheltered  cracks,  and  among  the  rocks  on 
the  southern  slopes ! 

They  stretched  themselves  after  the  long 
winter  sleep,  and  soon  there  appeared  tiny 
round  leaves.  One  day  Helga  brought  in  a 
buttercup. 

The  air  became  dense  and  warm. 


46         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

The  steam  rose  from  the  meadows  and 
marshes,  dark  spots  became  visible  in  the 
snow  masses  of  the  high  mountains;  and 
the  islands,  out  over  the  soft,  gray  sea,  were 
almost  hidden  behind  all  that  drifting 
moisture. 

The  sparrows  were  quarrelling  and  making 
plans  for  their  weddings. 

The  bird-cherry  stood  drooping  under  its 
large  burden  of  flowers,  and  the  cuckoo 
laughed  in  the  thickets. 

"  Beautiful  spring,"  said  Helga,  "  oh,  how 
beautiful !  "  and  she  sang. 

One  Sunday  morning  Lyder  was  on  his 
way  up  to  the  mountains  and  tarns,  following 
the  king's  highway. 

He  had  started  early,  not  caring  to  meet 
any  one. 

Soon  he  reached  the  heights,  where  he 
could  look  over  the  stone  walls  and  terraces 
of  the  parks  towards  the  fiord  and  islands. 
There  rested  a  Sunday  expression  over  all, 
quiet,  almost  solemn. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        47 

Lyder  hurried  on  with  long  steps.  He 
thought  of  the  tall  eagle-ferns,  of  the  heather, 
and  the  cry  of  waterbirds  on  the  marshes 
and  lakes.  He  longed  for  it  all  and  for 
that  loneliness  amid  which  he  never  felt 
lonesome. 

And  after  Sunday  must  needs  come  the 
invariable  Monday.  That  meant  back  again 
to  the  office,  keeping  bopks,  while  all  this 
happy  life  of  summer  was  going  on  among 
the  mountains. 

What  kind  of  life  was  he  leading,  anyhow  ? 
Why  would  not  his  father  let  him  have  his 
wish,  to  live  out  here  in  the  only  kind  of 
place  in  which  he  could  be  happy? 

He  had  written  to  his  father,  not  being 
able  to  summon  courage  to  speak,  and  had 
asked  that  he  would  buy  him  a  farm,  elo- 
quently pleading  that  indoor  work  was  un- 
suited  to  him,  telling  how  he  yearned  to  dig 
in  the  soil,  plant  and  harvest ;  how  gladly  he 
would  be  poor,  if  he  might  live  out  in  the 
blessed  country,  where  all  that  was  best  in 
him  helped  him  to  conquer  his  lower  desires, 


48        UNTO  THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

where  he  felt  honest  and  free.  "  I  would 
much  rather  be  poor,"  ended  the  letter, 
— "  poor  and  a  man,  —  than  rich  and  a 
brute." 

For  four  long  days  he  awaited  an  answer. 
Coming  home  from  the  exchange,  the  fourth 
day,  his  father  said  in  a  strange,  cold  way,  — 

"  I  received  a  letter  from  you  the  other 
day."  Then  followed  a  painful  silence. 
After  a  while,  "  There  is  not  dry  bread  in 
farming;  you  really  astonish  me,  my  son, 
with  your  inconsistency."  He  shook  his 
head,  and  added,  "Such  dreams  of  a  hut 
and  a  heart  are  too  impracticable  for  our 
time.  I  most  sincerely  wish  you  would  settle 
down  to  energetic  work  in  your  present  posi- 
tion in  which  there  are  thousands  who  would 
envy  you." 

That  had  been  the  end  of  it,  —  Lyder 
made  no  reply,  and  his  father  never  alluded 
to  the  matter  again. 

Lyder  turned  off  from  the  king's  highway, 
and  entered  an  almost  abandoned  road, 
scaling  some  birch-covered  hills.  It  was 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        49 

lined  on  both  sides  by  stone  fences,  and 
deeply  shaded  by  large  rowan-trees,  under 
which  the  clear  water  oozed  from  the  wet 
hillsides,  faintly  gurgling  along  the  gravelly 
waggon-ruts.  This  road  was  a  short  cut  to 
the  tarns. 

The  thrushes  sang  in  the  hazel  thickets. 
Lyder  longed  for  a  sight  of  that  pale  peasant 
girl.  He  felt  what  happiness  it  would  be  to 
saunter  alone  with  her  in  this  fragrant  air, 
with  this  jubilant  summer  all  around  them. 
Then  the  thought  oppressed  him,  he  became 
sad. 

Was  he  in  love  with  her,  really  in  love? 
Well,  why  should  he  not  be? 

Was  she  not  as  good  as  many  of  those 
fine  ladies,  who,  with  no  more  right  than  she, 
expected  so  much  of  life  ? 

Eh,  but  was  she  not  a  peasant,  lacking  in 
education,  her  language  crude,  her  manners 
—  ah,  if  it  came  to  manners  there  was  some- 
thing almost  queenly  about  hers,  —  simple 
and  proud.  Surely  there  was  nothing  coarse 
or  bold  in  her  smile. 

4 


5O         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

If  he  might  meet  her  in  the  heather,  among 
the  wild  mountains,  on  that  day !  She 
seemed  to  belong  so  closely  to  it  all,  to  be 
the  soprano  in  that  concert  of  summer 
voices. 

He  had  now  reached  the  crest  of  the  hills. 
Far  below  lay  the  tarns,  nestling  among  the 
mountains. 

Down  there,  just  where  the  road  turned 
to  follow  along  the  shore,  at  the  top  of  a  low 
knoll,  somebody  was  sitting,  —  a  woman 
whose  form  stood  out  clearly  against  the 
dark  water. 

Lyder  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Silly  fool !  "  he  spoke  to  himself,  "  how 
could  she  be  there  ?  What  would  she  do  out 
of  town  so  early  on  a  Sunday  morning?  As 
if  there  were  not  a  thousand  lasses  and  more 
wearing  white  kerchiefs !  " 

Nevertheless  Lyder  hurried  on. 

A  grove  of  hazels  hid  the  tarns  from  view ; 
then  again  they  appeared,  again  were  lost. 

He  could  not  sing,  as  he  was  wont  to  do 
when  walking  quickly  downhill. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         51 

"  If  it  should  be  she,  after  all,"  he  sighed. 

As  the  road  swept  around  some  great 
lichen-covered  rocks,  he  suddenly  found 
himself  closer  to  the  woman  than  he  had 
expected  to  be. 

She  looked  around,  hearing  him  slide  over 
the  rocks,  then  arose  and  walked  slowly, 
following  the  road  by  the  shore. 

Lyder  felt  stunned.  Should  he  follow 
her?  For  all  his  longings,  he  had  scarcely 
been  prepared  for  this.  He  halted  a 
moment,  then  hastened  after  her. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice 
as  he  overtook  her. 

She  glanced  out  over  the  tarns.  He 
thought  she  was  laughing. 

"  Where  are  you  going  so  early  this  morn- 
ing ? "  he  asked  in  a  friendly  tone. 

She  looked  at  him  scrutinisingly,  but  did 
not  answer. 

Lyder  was  beginning  to  feel  ashamed  of 
himself,  yet  gathered  courage  for  one  more 
effort. 

"  Your  parents  do  not  live  up  here  among 


52         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

the  mountains,  do  they  ? "  he  said  kindly, 
without  looking  at  her. 

"  No,  but  my  sister  does." 

"  I  did  not  know  you  had  a  sister.  What 
is  her  name  ?  " 

"  Marit  Hakonsdatter." 

"  That  is  a  nice  name  ;  and  yours  ?  " 

"  Mine  ?     Guri." 

"  Guri  Hakonsdatter,"  he  said,  and  smiled. 
It  fitted  her  well,  that  name. 

"  So  you  are  going  to  see  your  sister,  are 
you  ?  She  is  married,  is  she  ?  " 

Guri  laughed,  as  if  greatly  amused. 

"  No,  she  is  n't  married,  sure ;  she  is  the 
cook  at  Schliitter's,  at  the  head  of  the  lake. 
They  moved  up  there  a  few  weeks  ago  for 
the  summer,  and  I  have  not  seen  Marit 
since  then.  But  monsieur  would  better  walk 
on.  I  see  city  folks  coming,"  she  added  with 
evident  anxiety,  stopping  as  if  to  let  him  pass. 

Lyder  understood  it  would  not  appear 
well  for  him  to  be  seen  in  company  with 
a  peasant  girl.  And  he  recognised  the 
Schliitter  turnout  in  the  distance. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         53 

If  Karen  Schliitter  was  in  the  carriage 
with  her  sweet  mamma,  it  would  indeed  be 
food  for  the  hungry ! 

"  I  will  wait  for  you  by  the  old  stone 
bridge,"  he  said  hurriedly. 

She  gave  him  a  short,  half-reproachful 
glance  and  lowered  her  eyes,  but  made  no 
answer. 

"  Even  if  they  did  chance  to  see  me  speak 
to  her,"  he  thought,  "  they  might  easily  sup- 
pose I  said  only  good-morning  or  something 
like  that." 

He  tipped  his  straw  hat  as  the  Schliitters 
passed  him.  The  whole  family  were  evi- 
dently on  their  way  to  church.  Karen 
smiled  graciously  at  him,  and  he  felt  relieved 
when  out  of  their  sight. 

On  the  pillars  of  the  old  stone  bridge 
grew  a  small  fern,  Asplenium  trichomane. 
Lyder  wanted  some  roots  for  the  rockery  at 
home  in  the  garden ;  he  would  see  if  they 
were  there  yet ;  that  would  make  time  pass 
more  quickly.  He  found  them  in  great 
abundance,  fine  and  graceful.  Ferns  were 


54 

his  favourite  plants;  they  made  him  dream 
of  the  tropical  islands  he  had  read  about. 

It  seemed  to  take  an  eternity  for  her  to 
reach  the  bridge. 

Perhaps  she  was  afraid  of  him,  and  had  re- 
turned; but,  no,  the  white  kerchief  appeared 
above  the  knoll,  then  her  head,  then  her 
whole  body  against  the  blue  sky.  Slowly 
she  walked  towards  him,  smiling  as  if  their 
meeting  was  a  matter  of  course.  With  one 
hand  she  lifted  her  gown  to  keep  from 
touching  the  spongy  ground.  A  faint  flush 
had  come  into  her  cheeks;  she  raised  her 
head  and  scanned  the  upper  tarn,  scintillat- 
ing in  the  broad  sunlight  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains  whose  snowy  crests  rose  above 
the  summer  verdure. 

The  air  was  filled  with  fragrance  from  the 
birches ;  once  in  a  while  a  strong  gust  of  air, 
descending  from  the  peaks,  would  darken  the 
water. 

He  took  her  hand  and  looked  into  her 
very  soul.  She  did  not  lower  her  eyes ; 
there  came  a  sort  of  veil  over  them,  and  she 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY         55 

smiled  again  faintly  as  he  pressed  her  hand 
and  stammered,  "  Guri,  thou  art  beautiful, 
beautiful,  beautiful !  " 

She  gave  him  no  answer,  but  her  smile  in- 
toxicated him. 

He  led  her  into  the  forest  of  alders.  The 
tarn  shone  between  the  dark  trunks  of  the 
trees  below  the  yellow  swamps  on  its  mar- 
gin. The  thrushes  flew  screaming  around 
their  nests  to  protect  them.  A  far-off  boom 
from  a  rockslide  silenced  the  song  of  the 
birds  in  the  thickets  for  a  few  seconds,  when 
they  commenced  again  more  jubilant  than 
ever. 

Lyder  and  Guri  walked  together  slowly 
over  the  soft,  moss-covered  forest  ground. 
He  had  taken  her  arm  and  kept  it  pressed 
close  to  him.  Slowly,  slowly,  almost  as  in 
a  dream,  he  led  her  along ;  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  forest,  among  moss-covered  boulders, 
over  little  rills  clear  as  crystal,  humming 
among  the  ferns,  among  the  foxgloves  and 
tall  brakes ;  farther  and  farther  away  from 
the  world  into  that  soothing  solitude  of 


56        UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

nature,  —  Guri  so  beautiful,  so  majestic  in 
her  slow,  gliding  walk;  smiling,  ever  faintly 
smiling. 

"  Guri,"  he  whispered,  "  thou  art  beautiful, 
beautiful;"  and  he  laid  his  arm  around  her 
waist,  leading  her  always  farther,  farther  into 
the  forest 

The  day  had  become  warm. 

The  sunlight  glittered  on  the  small  waves 
of  the  tarn,  dazzling  Guri's  eyes  as  she 
looked  at  it.  The  girl  was  walking  alone  in 
the  shade  of  the  alders. 

She  hurried  on,  suddenly  stopping  by  the 
corner  of  a  stone  wall  which  surrounded  the 
garden  of  the  Schliitter  summer  residence. 
She  looked  over  the  back  yard  and  kitchen 
garden  for  Marit. 

A  little  rill  crossed  the  road  from  under 
the  ferns  and  rocks.  Guri  bent  down, 
moistened  her  handkerchief,  and  held  it 
over  her  burning  face.  Could  she  not  get 
around  that  corner  and  enter  the  gate? 
Something  held  her,  —  was  she  afraid  of 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY        57 

her  own  sister?  She  wished  to  return, 
but  could  not  do  that  either.  She  leaned 
her  elbow  on  the  rock  fence,  for  a  faintness 
was  coming  over  her.  But  she  shook  her 
head  and  laughed  a  strange  laughter,  that 
scared  her. 

"  My  God,  my  God !  "  she  whispered. 

Somebody  opened  the  door  and  slipped 
out  into  the  yard,  singing.  It  was  Marit. 
If  Guri  only  could  be  sure  her  sister  was 
alone,  she  would  hurry  to  meet  her  before 
she  went  in  again,  or  —  call  her. 

"  Marit ! "  she  tried  to  call,  but  it  barely 
passed  her  lips.  She  succeeded  better  with 
a  second  effort. 

Marit  looked  around,  shading  her  eyes. 

Guri  called  once  more,  and  Marit,  turning 
towards  the  gate,  walked  out  into  the  highway 
where  Guri  was  standing. 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 
she  said,  reaching  out  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Guri,  trying  to  answer 
lightly. 

"  Why  don't  you  come  in  ?  " 


58         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

"  Oh,  you  'd  better  come  out ;  let  us  go 
up  on  the  hillside,  where  we  can  be  alone, 
darling." 

Marit  gazed  at  her  in  astonishment.  Some 
one  called  from  within,  "  Marit." 

"  I  will  stay  here  till  you  return ;  or  no  — 
I  will  go  up  on  the  big  rock  yonder  and  wait 
for  you,"  said  Guri. 

She  walked  on  slowly  and  seated  herself 
in  the  shade  of  the  rocks. 

Below  lay  the  marshes  interspersed  with 
groves  of  stunted  alders.  The  tarn  looked 
darkly  deep.  A  string  of  ducks  came  flying 
low  over  it  from  out  of  the  distance,  alighting 
with  a  splash  in  the  middle.  Once  in  a  while 
a  trout,  which  had  jumped  for  a  fly,  left  faint, 
waning  circles  of  wavelets.  The  shades  of 
the  rugged  peaks  fell  blue  upon  the  snow 
in  their  crevices.  And  what  a  singing  of 
migratory  birds !  What  a  love-feast  among 
them!  Then  such  a  warm,  sleepy  air,  so 
fragrance-laden  ;  such  wafts  of  soft  wind 
rising  across  the  waters,  dying  away  in  the 
heather  1 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF    SIMPLICITY        59 

Guri  stretched  herself  on  the  moss.  She 
lay  on  her  side  with  one  arm  under  her 
head,  looking  out  over  the  lakes,  but  seeing 
nothing. 

What  would  the  kind  old  pastor  at  Vik 
have  said  ?  Had  he  not  told  her  to  keep  to 
the  Lord  ?  Had  he  not  that  evening,  before 
she  boarded  the  steamer,  knelt  with  her  alone 
in  his  quiet  study  and  prayed  to  God  for  her 
that  she  would  remain  pure  and  good  in  the 
great  city,  amid  its  many  temptations  ?  Then 
he  had  laid  his  hand  on  her  head,  — "  God 
bless  you,  my  child,"  said  he.  The  poor  old 
vicar !  how  she  loved  him. 

Her  thoughts  wandered  back  to  a  terrible 
winter  long  ago,  when  her  father  went  away, 
never  to  return,  when  her  mother  was  so 
sick,  and  all  the  children  were  hungry ;  when 
old  grandmother  Guri  was  carried  away  by 
the  avalanche  ;  the  winter  when  her  mother 
cried  through  all  the  long,  gray  days,  and 
after  dark  cried  louder  and  wilder,  thinking 
the  children  asleep,  begging  God  for  Hakon, 
her  husband. 


6O         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

How  clearly  it  all  stood  before  Guri  now, 
though  she  was  so  very  little  at  the  time! 
Among  the  grayness  and  darkness  of  that 
winter,  which  seemed  the  beginning  of  her 
life,  stood  the  vicar  with  his  kind,  loving 
face.  He  took  her  to  his  home  and  brought 
her  up  among  his  own  children  till  she  grew 
old  enough  to  do  housework. 

She  longed  for  the  broad  fiord,  where  it 
entered  from  the  ocean ;  for  the  islands  and 
for  seabirds,  whose  nests  she  used  to  rob. 
She  longed  for  the  vicar ;  she  wanted  to  go 
to  him  that  he  might  pray  for  her  after  she 
should  have  told  him  all. 

Would  he  turn  her  away?  "The  city  with 
its  temptations,"  he  had  said.  He  knew  it 
all,  the  dear  old  vicar;  he  would  understand 
her,  forgive  her,  help  her. 

But  Lyder  van  Meeren,  young,  a  gentle- 
man, the  son  of  a  rich  family,  how  she  loved 
him ! 

The  fine  perfume  of  his  costly  clothes, 
yes,  and  his  nearness,  had  taken  her  senses 
away.  He  was  kind  and  gentle,  too.  He 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         6 1 

had  spoken  to  her  softly,  lovingly:  "Little 
Guri,  don't,  don't  cry ;  I  love  you,  love  you." 
My  God,  if  only  she  dared  love  him,  dared 
proclaim  it  to  all  the  world ! 

He  would  not  be  dishonourable,  Lyder  van 
Meeren.  When  he  said,  "  Little  Guri,"  he 
said  it  as  if  he  truly  loved  her. 

The  thought  overpowered  her,  and  she 
wept.  She  was  weeping  still  when  Marit 
came.  Seating  herself  close  to  Guri,  the 
latter  scolded,  teased,  begged,  till  at  last  she 
knew  it  all. 

A  long  silence  followed. 

The  more  Marit  thought  of  it,  the  harder 
grew  the  expression  of  her  face.  She  cursed 
these  rich  men  who  sought  only  pleasure  and 
left  behind  them  only  sorrow.  She  ground 
her  teeth  at  the  thought.  How  she  would 
like  to  see  them  poor,  see  them  humble  as 
those  who  have  to  serve.  Only  a  lass  —  was 
not  that  what  they  said  ?  And  what  did 
they  care  if  they  took  away  the  peace  and 
happiness  of  that  poor  lass  forever  ? 

J3ut  as  Marit's  hatred  for  Lyder  van  Meeren 


62          UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

and  his  sort  increased,  so  did  her  love  for  her 
sister  become  tenderer  and  tenderer. 

Marit  was  the  younger,  a  coarse-looking 
girl,  with  reddish  hair  and  colourless  eyes. 
She  had  a  deep,  masculine  voice,  and  her 
nature  was  an  unusual  mingling  of  high 
temper  with  reserve. 

"  God  punish  him  for  it ! "  she  said  to  her- 
self ;  "  God  punish  him  for  it !  but,"  aloud, 
"  don't  you  cry,  dear,  don't." 

Evening  came  with  reddening  peaks  and 
silence,  with  burning  clouds  after  sunset, 
with  the  fragrance  of  moisture  from  the 
moorlands. 

An  impromptu  party  of  young  fplk  had 
arrived  at  the  villa. 

There  was  jolly  laughter  and  singing 
among  the  rowan-trees  and  the  birches. 
Coloured  lamps  hung  under  the  leafy  vaults 
by  the  shore,  and  their  reflections  quivered 
on  the  dark  water. 

The  summer  night  seemed  filled  with  love 
and  thoughtless  happiness.  Gay  speeches 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         63 

and  laughter  rang  out  from  around  the  punch 
table  in  the  garden  hall,  and  in  a  secluded 
arbour  where,  some  one  had  forgotten  to  light 
the  coloured  lamps,  whispers  fell  lightly. 

Along  the  shore  walked  Guri. 

She  moved  slowly,  keeping  well  in  under 
the  trees,  where  she  could  not  be  seen,  once 
in  a  while  stopping  to  lean  against  a  trunk 
and  listen  for  a  voice  she  knew ;  wondering 
if  Lyder  van  Meeren  was  among  those  happy 
youths,  listening  for  his  laugh  among  the 
laughter,  but  in  vain. 

It  made  her  happy  to  think  he  was  not 
there. 

She  continually  heard  the  sweet  words  he 
had  spoken  to  her,  growing  more  and  more 
happy,  more  sure  that  she  wished  to  meet 
him  again.  She  had  forgotten  the  old  vicar 
with  his  silvery  hair,  his  deep  vibrating  voice, 
his  fatherly  love  and  his  warning,  — "  the  large 
city  with  its  many  temptations."  She  had 
forgotten  everything  but  love ;  the  simple 
lass  loved  Lyder,  and  she  made  up  her  mind 
to  do  many  things  for  his  sake. 


64         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

When  she  reached  the  hazel  forest  on  the 
heights,  she  commenced  to  sing.  It  was  a 
song  her  mother  had  taught  her,  —  a  melody 
softly  rocking  like  a  boat  on  a  summer  sea, 
a  fisherman's  song  with  a  pleasing  melan- 
choly in  its  gayety.  And  Guri,  as  lasses  are 
wont  to  do,  smacked  her  lips  when  she  was 
through  singing. 

How  happy  she  was ! 


VI 


LYDER  sat  at  his  desk  looking  out  on 
the  harbour  where  the  steamers  were 
going  and  coming. 

It  was  sultry  in  the  office,  the  air  being 
saturated  with  the  odour  of  dried  and  salted 
fish  and  oil. 

To  some  this  smell  meant  life,  business 
transactions,  and  prosperity,  —  the  odorous 
wealth  of  the  sea  stored  in  the  ancient  ware- 
house of  the  old  Hanseates. 

The  long  blue-painted  shelves  along  the 
walls  were  filled  with  yarn  and  nets  and 
tarred  ropes,  —  goods  to  be  traded  for  what 
the  fishermen  brought  every  summer  from 
their  homes  in  the  far  northlands. 

Every  summer  they  came  with  their  large 
open  hulks  loaded  high  up  to  the  masts  with 
stacks  of  dried  fish. 

They  came  speeding  in  the  fiord,  these 
high-prowed,  square-sailed  crafts  resembling 

5 


66         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

the  vikings'  dragons  of  old.  They  came 
from  their  gray  northern  seas,  and  had  on 
board  a  race  of  hardened  men  accustomed  to 
look  death  in  the  eye,  men  who  were  always 
poor,  and  who  in  their  slow,  singing  way  of 
speech,  earnest  expression  of  features,  and 
the  singular  melancholy  of  their  mirth, 
seemed  to  have  been  shaped  both  bodily 
and  mentally  in  conformity  with  their 
surroundings. 

The  dreary,  stormy  winters,  the  desolate 
marshes  and  barren  hills  of  their  home-land 
and  islands  had  stamped  them. 

They  were  men  whose  eyes  could  sparkle 
like  the  lightning  of  a  storm-night  on  the 
sea.  They  were  men  of  deep  emotions,  hail- 
ing from  a  land  where  death  and  sorrow  so 
often  wailed  over  the  waters  in  the  dark 
storm-nights;  men  looked  down,  upon  be- 
cause they  were  not  understood. 

Tied  up  in  debt  to  the  old  business  houses 
of  the  city,  suffering  from  the  uncertainty  of 
their  ocean  harvest  and  steadily  increasing 
indebtedness,  debt-slaves  to  the  end  of  their 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         67 

lives,  they  sank  by  the  score  into  early 
graves  under  a  capsized  boat  on  a  frightful 
sea,  or  died  from  winter  hardships  while 
gathering  their  precious  harvest. 

They  looked  awkward  and  slow,  often 
sullen,  as  they  entered  the  office  in  a  long 
row,  bringing  with  them  the  odour  of  wet 
clothes  and  dried  fish.  Lazy  and  without 
energy  they  seemed  to  those  who  had  not 
lived  among  them  and  seen  them  at  work, 
riding  the  wild  sea  in  their  open  boats  under 
the  bleak  northern  winter  sky.  Even  the 
street  gamins  made  fun  of  them,  imitating 
their  singing  mode  of  speech. 

After  a  short  stay  in  the  city,  they  hoisted 
their  large,  tanned  sails,  and  before  a 
southerly  breeze,  perhaps  in  a  pouring  rain, 
glided  out  from  the  fiord  towards  their 
northern  homes  to  renew  their  battle  for 
existence  with  the  elements. 

Old  Herr  van  Meeren  had  no  longer  any 
occasion  to  feel  dissatisfied  with  his  son. 
Lyder  was  the  first  in  the  office  and  the 
last  to  leave  it.  He  did  his  very  best  to 


68         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

please  his  father,  and  Herr  van  Meeren 
hoped  that  at  last  his  son  had  come  to  his 
senses,  become  aware  of  his  duties. 

However,  Lyder's  interest  in  his  father's 
business  was  not  more  than  skin  deep.  He 
hated  as  much  as  ever  to  sit  shut  up,  scrib- 
bling letters,  keeping  books,  and,  as  he  said 
to  himself,  helping  to  rob  as  best  he  could. 
But  since  the  day  he  had  first  spoken  to 
Guri,  a  feeling  of  responsibility  had  come 
home  to  him.  He  wished  to  please  his  father, 
so  that  some  day  —  it  must  come  soon  — 
he  might  go  to  him  with  more  confidence 
and  ask  for  his  liberty.  He  would  ask  for  a 
part  of  his  inheritance,  take  Guri,  and  go  out 
in  the  world,  —  far  off  to  the  North  Ameri- 
can coast  of  the  Pacific  ocean.  There  in 
that  new  fruit  and  wine  garden  on  the 
western  slopes  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  he 
would  buy  a  small  home,  cultivate  the  soil, 
live  an  ideal  life,  the  master  of  himself,  and 
her  master  too,  —  for  he  expected  her  to  be 
obedient!  Was  not  he  a  Van  Meeren,  while 
she  ?  —  But  Guri  was  beautiful,  lovable ;  and 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY        69 

what  she  lacked  in  education  and  perhaps  in 
manners  he  would  soon  teach  her. 

There  were  times  when  he  doubted 
whether,  on  account  of  this  difference  in 
social  position,  he  should  be  happy  with 
Guri  Hakonsdatter  as  his  wife. 

It  ought  not  to  be  so  —  such  a  difference 
ought  not  to  exist;  something  was  wrong, 
very  wrong,  in  society.  Yet  the  Bible  said, 
"  The  poor  ye  have  always  with  you." 

Besides,  in  a  discussion  going  on  between 
Jens  Birk  and  his  friends  on  one  side,  and 
Hans  Gram,  the  editor  of  "  The  Liberal 
Press,"  on  the  other,  many  things  were  very 
convincing.  Jens  Birk  had  certainly  the 
stronger  arguments,  both  from  the  Bible  and 
history ;  he  used  them  forcibly,  too.  Hans 
Gram's  arguments  for  equal  rights  and  op- 
portunities seemed  rather  loose-jointed ;  in 
fact,  as  Jens  Birk  said,  they  were  imprac- 
ticable. All  could  not  be  masters;  some 
had  the  gifts  for  making  money,  others 
had  not;  and  as  money  was  the  real  dis- 
tributor of  advantages  and  opportunities, 


7O         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

how  could  the  two  classes  then  ever  become 
equal  ? 

Hans  Gram's  answer  —  that  money  was 
the  accursed  ruler  of  Christian  society,  and 
that  humanity  never  would  become  civilised 
so  long  as  money  existed  —  brought  forth 
loud  laughter.  He  was  a  radical  with 
socialistic  tendencies,  they  said  ;  perhaps  a 
full-fledged  Socialist  —  think  of  it — Social- 
ist !  Murder  and  anarchy ! 

Yes,  Lyder  had  begun  to  think.  This 
affair  with  Guri  had  started  him.  Experi- 
ence is  a  wonderful  teacher,  he  thought. 

His  desire  to  live  close  to  the  soil  was 
inherent  in  him.  Only  there  did  he  feel 
happy  and  sure  of  himself. 

"  I  love  her, "  he  said  to  himself ;  and 
still  —  there  was  something,  something  — 

Of  course  he  could  never  marry  her  in 
his  present  surroundings.  What  a  scandal 
would  not  that  be !  "  There  goes  the  Van 
Meeren  who  married  a  peasant  girl,"  people 
would  say  when  he  passed  them  on  the 
streets. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         Jl 

At  last  came  the  day  when  Lyder  could 
endure  no  longer. 

Lately,  of  evenings,  when  occupied  in  the 
flower  garden  and  the  park,  his  conversation 
with  Helga  had  by  degrees  glided  into  more 
practical,  more  earnest  channels. 

They  had  been  children  long  enough. 
Now  they  began  to  exchange  opinions,  each 
one  defending  hotly  his  or  her  side  of  the 
question. 

Helga  doubted  whether  it  was  right  for 
them  to  shut  themselves  up  away  from  those 
who  were  struggling  out  in  the  world. 

"  What  right  have  we  to  enjoy  ourselves 
this  way,  while  out  yonder  goes  on  the  battle 
for  existence  ?  " 

"  Well,"  answered  Lyder,  musingly,  "  I 
doubt  whether  that  battle  you  speak  of, 
where  those  who  fall  in  the  throng  are 
stepped  upon  by  those  who  follow,  where 
the  few  live  in  luxury  and  the  many  suffer 
want,  is  anything  to  desire.  I  would  rather 
leave  it  all  if  I  could,  Helga.  I  want  to  go 
where  I  can  live  undisturbed,  close  to  nature, 


72         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

cultivate  the  soil,  and  keep  as  far  away  as 
possible  from  that  strife  where  there  is  no 
mercy." 

He  saw  it  all  plainly  before  him,  —  to 
become  a  man,  he  must  be  put  where  he 
had  absolute  need  of  all  his  faculties,  where 
he  should  stand  dependent  on  no  one  but 
himself.  Oh,  but  what  was  there  in  him 
to  fit  him  for  the  world's  struggle,  he  who 
had  love  for  the  flowers,  for  nature,  he  who 
admired  art  and  music  and  who  could  dream 
for  hours  at  the  piano  ?  And  the  thought 
saddened  him ;  but  the  murmur  of  industry 
outside  the  tall  hawthorn  hedges  would 
not  leave  him  alone  any  longer.  He  com- 
menced to  speak  to  Helga  about  duty.  He 
told  her  he  hated  to  struggle;  he  longed 
to  live  in  peace,  work  for  himself,  raise  his 
bread  from  the  soil.  All  other,  struggles, 
wherein  one  had  to  push  in  the  throng  of 
humanity,  use  one's  nails  and  scratch,  lie, 
break  others  down  in  order  to  succeed  one- 
self, —  he  hated  the  very  thought  of  it. 

But  ill  suited  as  he  was  to  struggle,  how 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        73 

dared  he  take  Guri  with  him !  Did  he  love 
her  enough  to  live  with  her  always  ?  What 
was  that  something  which  at  times  seemed 
to  push  her  away  from  him  even  in  his 
thoughts  of  her  ? 

He  had  met  her  often  since  the  first  time. 

They  had  wandered  together  in  the  loneli- 
ness among  the  mountains,  by  the  lakes  and 
in  the  forest,  up  on  the  high  peaks,  where 
they  felt  free. 

And  the  more  he  saw  of  her,  the  more 
charmed  he  felt. 

"My  God,"  he  sighed— "she  is  not  like 
other  peasant  girls  —  she  is  devoid  of  all 
coarseness." 

And  still  —  that  something!  He  made 
up  his  mind  that  he  must  leave  soon  and 
without  her  —  work  out  in  the  world  first 
with  the  thought  of  making  a  home  for  her 
to  encourage  him ;  then  when  he  had  built 
the  home,  send  for  her. 

But  what  would  become  of  her  while  he 
was  away  ?  It  might  take  a  year,  perhaps 
two,  before  he  could  return.  Would  the 


74         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

something  grow  stronger  ?  Too  strong  for 
him,  so  that  she  never  could  come  ?  What 
would  become  of  her  then  ? 

With  horror  he  thought  of  his  old  com- 
rades, if  she  should  fall,  into  their  clutches ! 

He  must  protect  her ;  but  how  ? 

Speak  to  Helga  ?  Tell  her  all,  beg  her  to 
make  a  sister  of  Guri  until  he  was  able  to 
send  for  her?  Insanity!  How  could  Helga 
van  Meeren  and  a  peasant  lass  become  sis- 
ters? What  would  Helga's  warm  heart  and 
all  her  love  for  him  amount  to  under  that 
glaring  eye  of  so-called  Christian,  society  ? 

A  servant  girl,  a  peasant,  daughter  of  a 
widow  with  many  children,  supported  by  the 
district,  living  away  out  on  a  naked  island  by 
the  open  sea,  and  —  Miss  van  Meeren ! 

When  he  took  Guri  into  consideration,  he 
almost  gave  up  his  determination  of  speak- 
ing to  his  father  that  evening.  It  would  be 
hard  to  leave  her,  and  even  if  he  warned  her, 
there  was  still  great  danger.  He  felt  con- 
vinced that  should  she  fall  into  the  hands  of 
others,  they  would  leave  her  a  wreck  by  the 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        75 

roadside,  —  a  human  wreck  tossed  on  the  bil- 
lows of  Christian  indignation,  thrown  against 
the  cliff  of  Christian  condemnation,  hope- 
lessly lost. 

Was  not  the  world  full  of  such  examples  ? 

Strange,  he  thought,  —  and  it  had  never 
stood  so  clearly  before  him  as  then,  — 
strange  what  a  great  difference  there  is 
between  Christ  and  those  who  call  them- 
selves His  followers.  Was  that  the  reason 
why  his  father  never  went  to  church  ?  Was 
he,  despite  all  his  conservative  ideas,  under 
the  influence  of  the  liberal  school  of  religious 
thought  ?  Or  was  he  simply  ungodly  ? 

Then  came  to  Lyder's  mind  something 
which  had  happened  while  he  was  yet  a  child, 
something  he  had  then  not  understood. 

One  day,  being  very  busy  talking  to  him- 
self, he  was  startled  to  hear  a  clear  voice 
behind  him  say, — 

"How-de-do,  Lyder?" 

Turning,  he  saw  a  girl  of  about  his  own 
age  smiling  at  him.  He  had  never  seen  her 
before,  and  it  astonished  him  that  she  should 


76         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

thus  call  him  by  name.  He  stood  and  gaped 
at  her. 

"  Don't  you  know  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

Lyder  shook  his  head. 

"  I  am  your  sister."  She  took  his  hand 
confidingly.  "  Your  papa  is  my  papa  too,  but 
your  mother  isn't  my  mother." 

Lyder  was  so  dazed  that  he  could  find  no 
words ;  but  he  did  not  fear  her,  for  she  spoke 
kindly,  and  later  on  picked  nuts  for  him, 
being  a  much  better  climber  than  he. 

She  was  dressed  in  the  plain  garb  of  a 
working-man's  child,  with  no  shoes  on  her 
feet  and  a  ragged  dress. 

They  played  together  quite  awhile.  He 
liked  her  very  much,  for  she  did  just  as  he 
wished. 

After  she  had  left  him  and  run  halfway 
down  the  hillside,  she  turned  and  called 
back,  — 

"  Don't  tell  your  mamma;  if  you  do,  she  '11 
fix  it  so  that  I  never  can  come  back  and 
play  with  you.  Don't  you  tell." 

As  he  now  recalled  this  incident  it  seemed 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY        77 

to  him  that  there  was  something  terrible  in 
the  way  she  said  these  words. 

He  hurried  home  and  told  his  mother, 
who  clasped  him  in  her  arms  and  laughed, — 
such  a  strange,  forced  laughter;  he  could  still 
hear  it  ringing  in  his  ears. 

But  that  little  girl  never  came  back  to 
play  with  him. 

Lyder  had  walked  as  far  up  the  hillside  as 
the  rowan-trees,  where  the  road  was  lined  on 
both  sides  by  high  stone  fences. 

Here  grew  his  favoured  fern,  the  Asplenium 
trichomane. 

The  water,  oozing  out  among  the  rocks 
higher  up  on  the  hillside,  trickled  clear  as 
crystal  over  the  pebbles  in  the  middle  of  the 
old  washed  road. 

"  The  rowan-berries  are  sour,"  said  the  fox. 

Was  that  the  reason  why  the  great  busy 
world  seemed  so  little  in  sympathy  with  him? 
Was  he  like  the  fox,  calling  the  berries  sour 
because  he  could  not  reach  them  ? 

Coming  to  the  conclusion  that  the  world, 


78         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

not  himself,  was  blamable,  he  felt  happier. 
Truly,  those  on  whom  Nature  bestows  her 
noblest  gifts  are  the  very  ones  whom  social 
laws  prevent  from  enjoying  these  gifts.  The 
greedy,  the  merciless,  the  unscrupulous,  the 
most  ardent  worshippers  of  Mammon,  —  it  is 
often  they  upon  whom  society  bestows  most 
lavishly  the  means  of  enjoyment,  regardless 
of  the  fact  that  the  recipients  of  these  bene- 
factions are  quite  unable  to  comprehend  the 
value  or  the  nature  of  the  pleasures  which 
they  share. 

"Things  are  divided  strangely  in  civilised 
society,"  thought  Lyder. 

Yet  why  feel  anxious  ?  The  whole  world 
lay  open  to  a  Van  Meeren.  And  had  he  not 
long  ago  made  up  his  mind  that  if  ever  he 
should  become  a  man,  he  must  be  left  to  his 
own  resources? 

The  more  he  thought  of  it,  the  more  cer- 
tain he  became  that  this  conclusion  was 
right,  immovably  so. 

Then  the  question  faced  him  again;  it 
would  ever  return,  —  how  about  Guri  ? 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        79 

"  They  are  sour,"  said  the  fox;  "  the  rowan- 
berries  are  sour  —  sour  —  sour  — " 

But  there  was  his  father  far  ahead  on  the 
road,  walking  slowly  toward  the  tarns.  Lyder 
soon  caught  up  with  him. 

Herr  van  Meeren  was  in  deep  thought. 
He  was  thinking  of  his  first  ship,  the  one  he 
had  built  shortly  after  taking  his  father's  busi- 
ness. He  called  her  "  Lina,"  after  his  young 
wife.  She  was  the  largest  vessel  built  in  Ber- 
gen up  to  that  day.  How  proud  and  beauti- 
ful had  she  looked  as  she  lay  at  anchor  in  the 
stream  outside  the  Van  Meeren  warehouse ! 

Below  her  gunwale  were  large  white- 
painted  imitation  port-holes.  These  served 
both  as  ornaments  and  as  a  scarecrow 
against  sea-robbers.  They  made  her  look 
like  a  man-of-war,  and  indeed  there  were 
pirates  enough  in  those  times  both  in  the 
south  Mediterranean  and  the  Malayan 
Archipelago. 

But  the  "  Lina  "  foundered  on  her  first 
trip  to  China,  and  he  then  built  "  Bergen." 
Others  followed  in  close  succession ;  at  last 


8O        UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

came  the  beautiful  full  rigger  "  Berent  van 
Meeren,"  named  for  his  father.  She  was 
the  most  beautiful  ship  that  ever  had  en- 
tered the  harbour  of  Bergen,  built  in  Genoa 
of  Italian  oak.  But  she  had  never  paid 
interest  on  the  capital.  The  good  times 
had  persisted  in  staying  away,  and  those 
northern  fishermen  and  the  country  mer- 
chants were  getting  more  independent;  the 
coasting  steamers  were  searching  every  har- 
bour for  their  goods;  the  city  merchants 
undersold  and  overbid  one  another;  busi- 
ness transactions  and  methods  which  in 
the  good  old  times  would  have  been  looked 
down  upon  as  dishonourable  were  now  called 
simply  "  business." 

What  would  it  all  come  to  ? 

In  the  Storthing  the  republicans,  men 
with  insane  modern  ideas,  were  getting  in 
the  majority,  and  passed  laws  by  which 
ignorant  working-men  would  soon  have  as 
much  to  say  in  political  and  social  matters 
as  he  himself.  Ah,  the  times!  the  times! 
Herr  van  Meeren  shook  his  head. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        8 1 

His  large  inherited  fortune,  to  which  in 
earlier  days  he  had  added  considerably,  was 
dwindling  away  at  an  alarming  speed. 

Lyder  startled  his  father  as  he  caught 
up  with  him,  so  suddenly  did  he  bring 
him  out  of  his  dark  thoughts. 

Lyder  had  pleased  him  lately. 

Herr  van  Meeren  looked  sallow  and  wor- 
ried; his  hair  had  turned  almost  white. 
There  was  a  faint  vibration  in  his  voice  as 
he  said,  — 

"Is  that  you,  Lyder?" 

Stopping,  he  leaned  one  arm  on  the  stone 
fence,  looking  over  the  terraced  gardens 
across  the  fiord  towards  Lovstaken,  huge 
and  dark  and  naked. 

The  sun  had  set.  The  wind  was  raw  as 
it  fell  from  among  the  mountains;  some- 
thing bleak  rested  over  everything.  Sum- 
mer had  surely  vanished. 

The  swallows  were  gathering  in  large 
flocks,  preparatory  to  their  departure. 

There  was  a  strange  sense  of  unrest  over 
nature. 

6 


82          UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

The  feeling  of  distance,  which  had  grown 
so  strong  between  father  and  son,  kept  them 
silent  for  a  while,  though  each  wished  to 
speak. 

At  last  Lyder  remarked  that  "  Viking," 
the  steamer  belonging  to  Berentz  &  Son, 
had  run  ashore  outside  the  mouth  of  the 
fiord,  though  they  thought  she  could  be 
saved  if  the  sea  kept  calm. 

"  But  I  don't  think  it  will,"  said  Herr  van 
Meeren ;  "  there  is  a  change  in  the  weather 
to-night." 

"  Well,  they  have  full  insurance  both  on 
her  and  the  cargo." 
. "  Of  course,  of  course." 

"  And  I  presume  they  could  stand  it  any- 
how," added  Lyder,  lightly. 

Herr  van  Meeren  looked  earnestly  at  his 
son. 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  "  he  asked. 

Lyder  nodded,  looking  rather  foolish.  He 
answered  low,  — 

"  I  thought  so." 

"Yes,   but    nowadays   one    is    constantly 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS   OF    SIMPLICITY        83 

getting  surprises  in  such  matters,  my  son," 
Herr  van  Meeren  said  in  an  earnest  tone. 

"  But  Berentz  &  Son  are  rich  ;  are  they 
not,  father?" 

"  They  were  and  probably  are,  and  so  was 
Herman  van  Meeren  once;  but  he  is  so 
no  longer,  my  son.  I  have  wanted  to  tell 
you  this  for  some  time,  to  tell  you  that 
you  must  not  depend  upon  me  for  your 
future.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  say  it,  but 
of  my  fortune  there  is  nothing  left,  — 
nothing? 

He  extended  his  two  empty  hands,  then 
added  in  a  more  composed  voice, — 

"  If  I  were  you,  Lyder,  I  would  go .  out 
in  the  world.  Here  at  home  people  are 
stepping  on  one  another;  I  would  go  out 
in  the  world,  and  try  to  do  better  than  your 
father  has  done." 

Lyder  lowered  his  eyes ;  then  suddenly  he 
grasped  his  father's  hand. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  stammered,  "  let  —  let  me 
go ;  I  —  I  want  to,  father  — just  what  I  was 
going  to  speak  to  you  about  to-night." 


84         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

It  was  the  first  time  in  years  that  father 
and  son  had  been  so  friendly. 

Herr  van  Meeren  put  his  arm  into  his 
son's,  and  slowly  they  walked  along  together. 

The  air  was  restless.  The  wind  blew 
from  all  directions  and  whirled  the  faded 
leaves. 

"  Do  not  tell  your  mother  about  my  finan- 
cial condition ;  she  will  not  understand,  so 
we  had  better  not  bother  her  with  it.  Be- 
sides, so  long  as  my  credit  lasts,  and  there  is 
no  danger  of  sustaining  losses  to  anybody  if 
I  should  fail,  I  will  keep  right  at  work,  trying 
to  mend  things.  If  times  get  better  soon, 
I  shall  perhaps  be  able  to  straighten  out 
matters.  Why,  then,  give  her  unnecessary 
anxieties?  Better  not  bother  her  with  it." 

They  had  seated  themselves  on  the  bench. 
At  the  foot  of  the  hill  lay  the  tarns.  The 
mountains  looked  hard  and  unsympathetic 
in  the  twilight. 

In  thought,  Lyder  followed  the  road  along 
the  shore,  where  he  had  spoken  to  Guri  the 
first  time ;  he  followed  it  with  his  eyes  to  the 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY        85 

place  where  they  had  turned  into  the  forest 
among  the  moss-covered  rocks.  His  courage 
fell.  He  had  many  plans  for  his  future  that 
he  would  have  gladly  confided  to  his  father, 
now  it  had  come  to  the  turning  point,  yet, 
walking  homewards,  he  accepted  those  of  his 
companion  without  a  single  objection,  though 
it  must  be  admitted  that  many  of  Herr 
van  Meeren's  good  counsels  passed  through 
Lyder's  head  unheeded. 

One  thought  now  superseded  all  others : 
Guri,  —  what  would  become  of  her  now  that 
he  was  no  longer  backed  by  the  riches  of  the 
Van  Meerens  ? 

Accursed  money !  It  is  true,  after  all,  it 
rules  everything.  Lyder  clinched  his  fist, 
but  he  carefully  kept  his  fists  in  his  pockets. 

If  only  he  dared  tell  his  father!  Why 
should  he  not  dare?  Why  not  simply  go 
to  him  with  it  all,  as  a  son  should  go  to  his 
father,  ask  his  aid,  his  counsels,  his  encour- 
agement to  do  his  duty,  —  the  duty  he  so 
gladly  would  do,  though  now  the  obstacles 
seemed  insurmountable? 


86         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

And  still  —  if  it  were  so,  as  he  now  be- 
lieved, —  if  that  little  girl  had  told  him  the 
truth  years  ago,  —  if  —  if  —  ah,  but  they  were 
too  far  apart ;  between  him  and  his  father 
there  was  something  insurmountable.  Dif- 
ferent inclinations,  different  objects  in  life, 
so  many  mutual  misunderstandings ;  strife, 
strife  for  supremacy  in  life,  —  what  was  it  all  ? 
It  was  all  between  them  ;  and  yet  he  began 
to  think  that  perhaps  his  father  was  the  very 
one  to  whom  he  could  go  with  his  troubles, 
the  very  one  to  understand,  especially  in  this 
about  Guri.  He  had  a  vague  feeling  that  his 
father  was  a  far  more  lovable  man  than  he 
seemed  to  be;  that  indeed  his  heart  was 
brimful  of  love  for  all  of  them ;  and  yet  that 
something ! 

They  were  to  each  other  as  positive  and 
negative  poles ;  they  could  never  be  brought 
together,  —  never. 

After  supper  Lyder  withdrew  to  his  room 
to  be  alone  with  the  thoughts  that  stormed 
in  on  him. 

He  did  not  know  whether  to  be  happy  or 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         87 

to  give  himself  over  to  the  strange  grief 
which  struggled  to  rise  in  his  mind. 

Slowly  a  great  fear  accompanied  by  a  sense 
of  loneliness  crept  over  him  ;  for  he  felt  the 
full  seriousness  of  the  step  he  had  taken  that 
day.  He  had  a  presentiment  of  what  it 
meant  to  stand  alone  in  the  world.  Not 
until  this  moment  had  he  had  an  idea  of 
what  that  meant.  No  longer  would  his 
pockets  be  full  of  money ;  he  would  not 
be  backed  by  the  great  name  of  the  Van 
Meerens. 

And  his  father's  words,  "  Of  my  fortune  is 
nothing  left  —  nothing,"  commenced  to  hum 
through  his  head.  It  stood  as  if  written  on 
the  air  before  his  eyes.  He  tried  to  blot  it 
out,  to  feel  careless,  thoughtless,  and  happy ; 
but  it  constantly  returned,  till  he  became  so 
afraid  of  life  that  he  tried  to  lie  to  himself, 
tried  to  make  himself  believe  that  it  was  not 
so  after  all,  it  could  not  possibly  be,  —  his 
father  had  said  it  simply  to  scare  him 
into  activity.  But  the  thought  returned 
to  him  again  and  again,  that  after  this 


88         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

he  would  have  no  more  advantage  than 
those  clerks  in  his  father's  office  he  so  often 
had  pitied,  looking  upon  them  as  life-long 
slaves.  In  fact,  he  was  not  so  well  fitted  as 
they  for  the  great  struggle,  for  they  had  come 
from  poor  homes  and  struggled  all  their 
lives,  they  had  never  expected  anything 
else ;  but  he  — -  my  God,  how  poorly  pre- 
pared was  he! 

The  temptation  assailed  him  to  let  go  of 
it  all,  give  himself  over  to  a  dissolute  life 
whereby  he  might  forget.  Such  a  life  could 
not  last  long  —  so  much  the  better ! 

He  arose  and  paced  the  floor,  and  his  de- 
spair grew  stronger  as  he  thought  of  Guri. 

"O  God!  Thou  knowest  I  wish  to  do 
what  is  right  by  her ! " 

How  would  it  be  possible  for  him  to  say 
good-bye,  when  he  dared  promise  her  noth- 
ing ?  She  would  not  believe  him  if  he  told 
her  that  his  father  was  poor.  Van  Meeren, 
Van  Meeren,  —  it  was  one  of  those  gilded 
names  which  brought  with  its  very  sound  a 
jingle  of  gold.  Yet  it  was  not  gold  she 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY        89 

wanted ;  no,  it  was  love,  love,  —  that  was 
all.  But  gold  had  become  stronger  than 
love.  How  dared  he  love  her  when  his 
purse  was  empty! 

His  father  had  told  him  once,  that  a  hut 
and  a  heart  were  not  enough. 

"  What  have  I  done,"  he  sobbed,  "  how 
did  I  do  it  ?  I  am  in  love  with  a  peasant 
girl.  Through  mutual  consent  we  met,  we 
loved ;  what  wrong  was  there  in  that,  what 
harm  to  any  one  ?  " 

Did  not  the  birds  do  the  same?  Ah, 
but  there  was  a  great  difference,  —  they 
were  under  different  laws.  The  happy 
birds  in  the  woods  had  not,  like  civilised 
humanity,  strayed  away  from  the  mother's 
home  to  pray  to  false  gods;  they  had  kept 
close  to  her  and  were  free.  Civilised  man 
had  misused  the  developed  mind  which 
nature  had  given  him.  Instead  of  build- 
ing to  better,  he  had  organised  to  rob. 

Brotherly  love  —  love  which  ought  to  be 
the  fairest,  the  most  conspicuous  flower  in 
the  garden  of  civilisation  —  was  but  a  rare 


9O         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

little  flower,  —  beautiful,  indeed,  but  the 
other  plants  had  grown  up  around  it;  this 
little  frail  flower  was  hidden  away  among 
the  wilted  leaves,  while  the  great  gorgeous- 
coloured  ones  overshadowed  it  by  their 
brilliancy.  They  were  interwoven  by  long, 
strong  tendrils  of  a  vine  with  gay  flowers 
and  tempting  fruits.  Its  name  was  greed, 
and  its  fruits  were  gold. 

And  love,  the  little  flower  hidden  among 
the  leaves,  stood  and  longed  for  deliverance, 
for  more  light,  for  more  air,  for  the  coming 
of  the  gardener,  —  not  the  hireling,  —  who 
would  clear  away  all  this  rank  growth, 
smooth  aside  the  wilted  leaves,  and  finding 
that  flower  of  all  flowers,  speak  to  it  in  his 
kind  way,  give  it  sunshine  and  light,  water  it 
plentifully  that  indeed  it  might  become  the 
flower  of  all  flowers  and  its  fruits  ripen  into 
human  happiness,  —  not  happiness  for  the 
few,  but  for  all. 

Ah,  but  where  was  the  gardener? 

Lyder  heard  some  one  open  the  door  from 
the  sitting-room  into  the  hall.  He  heard 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY         9 1 

his  father  cough  as  he  walked  upstairs  to 
his  room. 

Involuntarily  he  ran  towards  the  door, 
but  stopped  with  his  hand  on  the  knob. 

"  Insanity,  insanity ! "  he  murmured.  "  He 
will  not  understand."  He  must  see  Helga 
and  tell  her  how  he  suffered. 

He  opened  the  door  a  little,  and  beckoned 
to  her,  as  she  passed  through  the  hall. 

She  looked  a  little  astonished,  but  smiled, 
as  she  entered,  until  she  saw  how  pale  her 
brother  was,  and  that  he  had  been  weeping. 

Lyder  pressed  her  down  into  a  chair ;  then, 
walking  slowly  back  and  forth,  sometimes 
stopping  suddenly  in  front  of  her,  he  told 
her  of  his  troubles,  of  all  except  the  one 
he  felt  sure  she  would  not  understand.  He 
said  not  a  word  about  Guri. 

Helga  sat  leaning  her  head  backwards, 
rocking  slowly. 

Her  eyes  were  almost  closed,  but  when  he 
stopped  in  front  of  her  once  in  a  while,  she 
opened  them  wide. 

She   was    thinking   of    how   lonesome    it 


92         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

would  be  when  Lyder  left;  of  the  great 
house  with  its  echoes  of  times  long  gone  by; 
and  the  garden,  and  their  walks  and  trails  in 
the  forest;  of  the  books  they  were  read- 
ing together,  the  music  they  were  practising, 
the  thoughts  they  were  interchanging! 

She  sprang  from  the  chair  and  embraced 
him. 

"  You  can't  go,  Lyder,"  she  cried.  "  It 
would  be  selfish  to  leave  me  here.  I  want 
to  go  out  in  the  world  too  and  struggle.  I 
am  not  afraid  of  life." 

"  Not  if  you  were  poor  ? "  interrupted 
Lyder. 

"  Yes  ;  but  we  are  not." 

"  Are  you  sure  ? "  And  he  told  her  what 
his  father  had  said  that  evening. 

She  again  seated  herself,  rocking  back 
and  forth. 

Lyder  paced  the  floor.  Both  were  in 
deep  thoughts. 

Helga  first  broke  the  silence. 

"  Then  you  will  be  a  man,  Lyder.  You 
will  have  to  struggle  for  a  home  of  your  own ; 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY        93 

you  will  feel  happy  when  you  have  built  it, 
far  more  so  than  if  you  stayed  here  and  —  " 

"Ah,  but  I  hate  struggle,"  he  interrupted. 
"  I  am  not  fit  for  it,  I  want  peace.  I  am  not 
afraid  of  work,  work  of  the  kind  I  am  suited 
for ;  but  struggle,  struggle  with  the  hope  of 
obtaining  riches  —  I  detest  the  thought.  I 
can't." 

"  You  need  not,"  she  said  lovingly.  "  Get 
a  piece  of  land  such  as  you  said  you  wanted ; 
make  a  good  home  of  it,  work  with  your 
hands  out  in  the  fields  under  the  open  sky, 
as  you  say  you  like  —  and,  Lyder,  I  will 
come  too,  and  we  will  make  roads  and  trails 
in  your  forest,  we  will  tend  to  your  flowers 
when  evening  comes.  I  will  sing  for  you 
while  you  work  in  the  field ;  we  will  eat  the 
bread  you  have  raised  on  your  own  land,  the 
fruits  and  vegetables  which  have  grown  there. 
We  will  make  it  a  little  world  of  our  own, 
just  as  we  have  here  inside  the  high  garden- 
wall  and  hawthorn  hedges.  Such  a  life  !  — 
you  your  own  master;  I  with  you!  O 
Lyder,  let  me  go!  If  you  go  alone,  I  am 


94         UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

afraid  you  will  become  like  the  others.  You 
will  forget  everything  for  money  —  " 

"  No  danger  of  that,  little  sister,"  inter- 
rupted Lyder,  almost  gayly. 

"  Don't,  don't,  Lyder ;  don't  feel  that  you 
must  laugh  disdainfully  at  what  we  have 
enjoyed  together.  I  am  afraid  you  will 
shake  your  head  when  you  think  of  this, 
that  you  were  a  child  after  you  were  grown ; 
for  you  will  get  energetic,  and  that  means  — 
greedy.  I  have  been  told  —  Hans  and  Petra 
told  me  —  that  out  on  the  American  prairies 
everything  is  energy,  calculation  —  money. 
Hans  says  that  constitutes  the  whole  of  life 
over  there,  —  even  more  so  than  here  at 
home.  You  won't,  will  you,  Lyder?  You 
won't  forget  the  flowers?  You  will  love 
what  is  tender  and  beautiful.  I  do  think  it 
is  such  a  mistake  that  to  be  manly  you  must 
be  devoid  of  higher  feelings,  you  must  be 
more  or  less  overbearing,  emotionless  and 
selfish." 

"  Oh  no,  Helga." 

"  Yes,  yes,  that  is  the  way  they  are,  all  of 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        95 

them,  or  the  most  of  them,  —  the  successful 
men.  I  know  —  don't  you  think  I  do?  — 
how  Jens  Birk  and  the  others  ridicule  what 
they  call  your  effeminate  tastes,  —  your  love 
for  nature  and  music  ?  They  say  you  are 
silly,  a  crank ;  that  you  are  not  practical ; 
that  it  is  good  for  you  your  father  is  rich,  as 
otherwise  you  would  starve  cultivating  your 
flowers.  Petra  has  told  me  it  all.  But 
you  will  show  them,  won't  you,  that  a  man 
can  build  up  a  home  of  his  own  and  main- 
tain it,  and  yet  find  time  to  cultivate  the 
best  in  him  ?  I  do  wish  you  would  like 
Hans  Gram  and  Petra.  They  have  opened 
my  eyes  to  many  things.  They  are  both  so 
simple,  so  open,  so  advanced,  so  perfectly 
independent  in  thought.  It  is  refreshing 
to  be  with  them.  A  man  devoid  of  these 
nobler  feelings  can  make  no  woman  really 
happy,  I  care  not  how  much  money  he  suc- 
ceeds in  accumulating.  I  shudder  when  I 
think  of  the  power  of  money ! " 

Helga  had   risen  from  the  chair.      They 
were  now  sitting  side  by  side  on  the  edge 


96         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

of  the  bed.  He  had  taken  her  hand  in  his. 
They  both  dropped  into  their  own  thoughts. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  kind  of  man  would  be 
called  by  the  world  a  wishy-washy,  senti- 
mental thing,"  Lyder  said,  half  to  himself. 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me.  I  have  no  use 
for  bleached,  long-haired  men,  soft  men  of 
leisure.  I  like  them  strong,  sunburned,  with 
honest  eyes ;  large  men,  if  you  please,  men 
with  some  purpose  in  life  besides  making 
money,  —  strong  and  independent." 

"  But  how  can  they  be  such  in  civilised 
society?  and  if  they  are,  how  can  they  re- 
main so  and  not  sink  in  the  onrushing  flood 
of  selfishness  ?  "  he  objected. 

"  If  so,  and  I  am  afraid  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible, live  for  yourself,  Lyder;  leave  it  all  and 
retire  into  solitude,  where  you  will  have  the 
least  possible  to  do  with  the  outside  world, 
where  you  can  cultivate  the  best  in  you  and 
use  your  best  influence  on  others,  and  you 
will  be  happy,  I  am  sure.  Hans  and  Petra 
are  right,  —  money  is  the  curse  of  it  all. 
Lyder,  I  am  so  glad :  maybe  they  will  let  me 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY        97 

go  too,  now  that  we  are  no  longer  rich. 
Maybe  I  shall  have  to  go  —  I  am  not 
much  afraid  of  the  world.  I  hope  it  has 
not  yet  become  unwomanly  to  be  a  woman. 
I  long  to  work,  to  use  my  brain.  Poor 
papa,"  she  added  quietly,  as  in  thought ; 
"  and  mamma,  it  will  be  hard  on  her.  She 
has  been  so  delicately  guarded  all  her  life, 
she  is  not  fit  to  endure  hardships,  dear  me ! 
and  I  know  that  if  I  stay  here  any  longer 
I  shall  become  the  same  way.  To  have  re- 
sponsibility—  just  think  of  it,  Lyder!  what 
a  happy  feeling  that  must  be !  to  be  respon- 
sible to  yourself  —  to  humanity.  Perhaps 
after  you  have  gone  and  prepared  the  way  I 
can  go  to  you.  I  like  to  teach.  I  should 
like  to  teach  little  children.  Then  when 
the  day's  work  is  done  we  will  go  on  ex- 
ploring trips  into  the  woods  —  the  new,  the 
strange  —  it  will  be  delightful." 

Lyder  put  his  arm  around  her. 

"  I  knew  it,"  he  said ;  "  there  is  no  one 
who  can  help  me  like  you.  I  sometimes 
think  that  the  sooner  I  am  dead  the  better ; 

7 


98         UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

but  when  I  speak  to  you,  sister,  you  have  a 
strange  power  over  me.  I  know  what  it  is," 
he  said  smilingly;  "it  is  sympathy,  love.  I 
need  love,  and  there  is  so  very  little  of  it  in 
the  world.  But  wait  just  a  little  bit,  sister;  you 
shall  see  —  I  feel  something  has  grown  strong 
in  me  here  to-night  —  wait,  we  shall  see." 


VII 

IT  was  Sunday,  and  Guri  was  free. 
After   weeks  of   cold  autumn  fog  and 
drizzle,  the  sun  had  risen  in  a  cloudless  sky, 
and  the  clearness  of  the  chilly  air  imparted 
its  purity  to  all  objects. 

The  large  yellow  leaves  of  the  maples  and 
the  smaller  ones  of  hazel  and  birch  lay 
pasted  to  the  wet  ground. 

A  spicy,  wild  fragrance  came  wafted  on 
the  fresh  breezes,  as  the  last  lingering 
thought  of  the  Norwegian  summer. 

Guri  seated  herself,  high  up  on  the  hill- 
side, on  a  rock  by  the  road,  —  the  short  cut 
between  the  king's  highway  and  the  tarns. 

Below  her  lay  the  city,  its  two  spacious 
harbours  plainly  visible  with  their  flag-deco- 
rated vessels  and  small  steamers  and  boats. 

The  exertion  of  climbing  the  steep  grade 
had  painted  faint,  red  roses  on  Guri's 
cheeks;  her  bosom  was  visibly  rising  and 


TOO      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

falling,  as  she  breathed  the  fresh  air  in 
full  draughts. 

She  was  glad  it  was  Sunday. 

She  felt  so  happy  that  she  sang,  while  the 
large  bells  of  the  cathedral  rang  out  their 
deep,  harmonious  song  and  all  the  church- 
bells  chimed  in  with  them. 

Sometimes  that  song  of  the  bells  seemed 
very  near,  then  again  it  was  carried  far  off, 
growing  muffled,  almost  dying  away ;  then 
suddenly  a  jolly,  whirling  breeze  brought  it 
back  again. 

But  as  Guri  sang,  she  became  serious. 
She  often  had  such  dark  apprehensions 
break  in  on  her  mind,  when  she  felt  the 
happiest. 

She  thought  of  the  old  vicar,  and  in 
memory  saw  the  two-storied,  white-painted 
house,  and  the  garden  in  front. 

The  vicar's  loving  words  and  his  warning 
to  her  came  with  the  other  memories. 

And  here  she  was  again  walking  the  for- 
bidden road  to  meet  him  whom  it  was  for- 
bidden her  to  love. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      IOI 

But  how  could  she  help  loving  him  !  In- 
deed, she  would  give  her  life  for  him.  He 
had  met  her  with  a  power  stronger  than  her 
will.  She  must  love  him  as  long  as  she 
was  herself. 

"But,  my  God!"  she  said,  half  aloud, 
"what  is  the  use,  Guri  —  Guri,  what  is  the 
use?  He  will  never  be  yours  —  yours  to 
keep." 

Soon  he  would  meet  a  fine  lady,  if  he 
indeed  had  not  already,  whom  he  would  love 
and  marry,  and  then  —  forget  Guri. 

Forget  ?  Hardly.  She  had  given  him  so 
much  of  herself,  forget  her  he  never  could. 

She  need  not  speak  to  him  any  more 
when  that  time  came  —  if  she  only  might 
see  him  once  in  a  while,  meeting  him  on  the 
streets  —  if  she  might  read  a  recognition  in 
his  eye,  one  which  said,  "  You  and  I,  you  and 
I,  Guri;  we  have  had  much  together,  you 
and  I." 

She  commenced  to  sing  again,  a  song 
Hakon,  her  father,  had  taught  her  mother 
while  they  were  young  and  courting. 


IO2       UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Hakon's  mother  used  to  sing  it  long, 
long  ago,  when  they  first  lived  by  the  sea, 
before  Grandmother  Guri  had  married  and 
moved  to  the  mountains,  where  she  was 
carried  off  by  the  avalanche. 

Eh,  the  fiord ! 

A  small  steamer  was  going  out,  soon  dis- 
appearing from  view  among  the  islands. 

It  was  going  to  her  old  home ;  she  knew 
by  the  course  it  took. 

She  could  almost  hear  the  cry  of  the  sea- 
birds  there. 

Oh,  if  Lyder  van  Meeren  were  but  a  poor, 
ragged  fisher-boy,  then  she  might  love  him 
all  she  pleased;  as  it  was,  he  might  love  her, 
but  not  belong  to  her. 

Soon  he  must  be  here.  He  had  told  her 
to  wait  for  him  there  on  the  rock ;  then  they 
would  walk  together  over  the  mountain- 
ridges  into  the  solitude  of  the  heather- 
covered  moorlands. 

There  he  was  at  last,  now  hurrying  up  the 
old  road,  waving  his  hat  to  her. 

Soon  they  were  walking  together,  he  help- 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      1 03 

ing  her  where  the  ground  was  steep  or 
rough  with  large  boulders. 

The  fresh  breeze  had  blown  her  three- 
cornered  kerchief  from  her  head  down  upon 
her  shoulders.  She  looked  rosy  and  happy, 
her  lips  parted  showing  her  fine  teeth,  her 
eyes  dilated  and  sparkling. 

The  solitude  deepened,  as  the  city  and  the 
fiord  disappeared  behind  the  first  crest. 

Before  them,  towards  Blaamand,  lay  roll- 
ing heat  and  dark  marshes. 

To  the  right,  visible  through  the  clefts, 
down  between  the  mountains,  lay  the  silvery 
tarns. 

The  jolly  mountain  breeze  danced  and 
twirled  among  the  heather. 

He  took  her  hand  and  they  commenced 
a  wild  run  —  faster  and  faster.  They  seemed 
to  glide  along  on  extended  wings  with  in- 
creasing rapidity.  They  had  a  mutual  feel- 
ing of  being  liberated.  Behind  them,  at  an 
increasing  distance,  lay  the  narrow  world ; 
they  were  free,  free ! 

Such  an  indescribable  happiness  as  that 


104     UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

sensation  brought  with  it !  It  drove  away 
all  sensuality,  it  left  in  them  both  a  wonder- 
fully passionate  love, —  the  gentleman,  the 
peasant  girl,  and  the  mountain  solitude! 

They  had  reached  the  very  crest  of  Blaa- 
mand,  —  one  immense,  naked  granite  rock, 
smooth  and  rounded,  crowned  by  an  old 
beacon. 

The  wind  carried  them  to  the  summit. 

On  the  other  side  was  a  blue  abyss  with 
tiny,  twinkling  tarns  at  the  bottom. 

Guri  clung  to  Lyder's  arm,  as  they  stood 
suddenly  at  the  brink.  She  felt  drawn 
towards  the  deep,  and  uttered  a  faint  "  Oh." 
Still  breathing  heavily  after  their  long  run, 
they  seated  themselves  with  their  backs 
against  the  beacon  as  a  shelter  from  the 
strong  breeze. 

A  hawk  was  soaring  listlessly,  far  below, 
over  the  tarns.  Once  in  a  while  it  uttered  a 
piercing  cry. 

Far  out  to  the  west,  past  the  islands  with 
their  low  mountains,  lay  a  narrow  blue 
streak,  —  the  ocean ;  and  on  the  other  side 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY      1 05 

of  that  trackless  highway  of  the  world  lay 
the  great  new  country  with  its  prairies, 
its  rivers,  its  enormous  lakes  and  forests, 
its  desert,  its  civilisation,  its  energy,  its 
strife. 

And  as  Lyder  looked  over  this  immense 
wilderness  of  mountains  and  water,  he 
thought  how  insignificant  were  human  laws 
compared  with  those  grand  eternal  laws  of 
everlasting  nature. 

He  had  almost  forgotten  that  this  was  the 
day  of  leave-taking. 

It  made  it  all  the  more  difficult  to  come  to 
when  he  looked  at  Guri.  She  was  utterly 
unaware  of  his  plans. 

How  beautiful  she  was,  with  her  rich  hair 
loose  over  her  back,  her  eyes  glittering  with 
life  and  happiness  ! 

She  remained  silent  from  an  overpowering 
feeling  of  love,  of  being  alone  with  him, 
where  she  dared  be  his.  She  felt  the  fulness 
of  his  power  over  her,  and  she  gave  herself 
humbly  into  its  possession. 

His  hands  played  in   her  loosened  hair, 


IO6      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

tying  it  jestingly  under  her  dimpled  chin. 
Then  he  kissed  her.  He  took  that  long, 
soft  hair  and  enveloped  his  own  head  in  it, 
laying  his  cheek  close  to  hers,  feeling  the 
smoothness  and  warmth  of  her  light  skin, 
inhaling  the  fragrance  of  her  pure  breath. 

She  forgot  everything,  —  all  consequences 
of  her  love,  —  everything,  except  the  present 
vibrating  enjoyment  of  it. 

But — the  ocean, —  that  long,  narrow  streak 
over  yonder,  —  the  ocean ! 

He  must  speak  to  her  now. 

He  felt  his  breath  growing  short;  he 
almost  gasped  for  it. 

He  had  forgotten  all  for  a  while  in  their 
wild  dance  over  the  heath,  that  this  was  to 
be  almost  a  hopeless  good-bye, — a  good-bye 
forever.  %  . 

Tears  started  to  his  eyes. 

The  old  fear  rose  in  him  of  the  cruel, 
merciless  world,  as  it  is  to  those  who  are 
poor  and  fallen.  He  could  have  uttered  a 
loud  cry  of  anguish ;  and  to  keep  it  back,  he 
involuntarily  threw  his  arms  around  her, 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      107 

pressed  her  to  his  bosom,  stammering,  "  Guri, 
Guri." 

She  nestled  to  him  like  a  kitten,  receiving 
all  his  caresses,  smiling  faintly  with  an  ex- 
pression of  blissful  rest. 

And  yet,  how  often  when  alone  and  in  her 
thoughts  suffering  the  penalty  of  her  love, 
had  she  not  felt  herself  hopelessly  plunged 
into  despair !  Even  the  kind  old  vicar  would 
condemn  her,  and  she  had  made  up  her  mind 
that  he  never  should,  and  that  never  a  spot 
should  appear  on  the  name  of  that  man  whom 
she  loved.  There  were  means  by  which  it 
could  all  be  kept  secret  If  it  came  to  the 
worst,  she  would  take  the  life  of  that  little 
being  which  she  felt  below  her  heart,  and  to 
whom  society  denied  the  right  to  be  born, 
whose  rights  after  its  birth  the  laws  of  the 
land  would  curtail,  —  put  on  it  for  life  a 
burden  of  shame  and  contempt.  Had  she 
not  seen,  out  there  in  the  country,  how  such 
children  were  brought  up,  how  they  were 
degraded  and  ill  treated ! 

But  when  she  was  with  him  out  among 


IO8      UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

the  mountains,  life  seemed  light ;  she  forgot 
everything  for  his  caresses  ;  she  was  happy. 

Lyder  pressed  his  folded  hands  between 
his  knees. 

Guri  was  about  to  take  his  arm  and  push 
him  towards  the  abyss,  just  to  scare  him  a 
little,  when  she  became  aware  of  the  deep 
earnestness  of  his  expression. 

She  stopped  suddenly. 

"  Lyder,"  he  had  insisted  upon  her  calling 
him  so,  "  why  do  you  look  so  sorrowful  ?  "  she 
asked  quietly. 

He  glanced  at  her,  while  his  eyes  again 
filled  with  tears.  Gathering  all  his  strength 
and  steadying  his  voice,  he  slowly,  quietly 
laid  before  her  his  plans,  told  her  that  he 
must  leave. 

"  If  I  am  ever  to  make  a  man  of  myself, 
Guri,  I  must  go ;  but  there  are  two  things 
which  make  it  very  hard  for  me  to  leave, 
—  the  one,  a  dread  of  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence, the  battle  for  life  which  awaits  me ;  the 
other  —  the  other  —  "  and  he  looked  at  her 
through  tears,  seeing  her  as  an  embodiment 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      1 09 

of  all  she  had  been  to  him.  "  The  other,  — 
could  you  guess  it  ?  "  he  added,  a  slight  break 
coming  into  his  voice. 

But  she  gave  no  answer.  She  evaded  his 
glance,  as  if  her  eyes  hurt ;  but,  as  they  at 
last  met  his,  and  she  saw  the  tears  glitter 
in  them  and  then  trickle  down  his  cheeks, 
all  her  love  came  into  her  features  ;  bending 
her  head  under  the  great  burden  which 
unawares  had  settled  upon  her,  she  burst  into 
a  deep,  subdued  weeping,  which  shook  her 
whole  frame,  till,  after  a  desperate  struggle, 
she  closed  her  lips,  and  with  one  deep,  vibrat- 
ing sigh  humbly  delivered  herself  into  the 
hands  of  fate. 


VIII 

IT  was  a  dark  night,  late  in  that  same 
autumn. 

Down  at  the  harbour  a  policeman  was  walk- 
ing his  beat,  up  and  down  the  long  wharf. 

A  fine  drizzling  rain  had  been  falling  the 
whole  day.  The  air  was  raw,  the  water  dark, 
gurgling  in  restless  motion  among  the  timbers 
of  the  landing. 

The  gas  lanterns  up  the  street  looked 
sleepy  in  the  thick  air.  The  sky,  entirely 
overcast,  hung  low  over  the  harbour  whose 
long,  narrow  water-alleys  were  lost  in  the 
darkness  between  the  large  warehouses  and 
wharves. 

All  this  part  of  the  city  was  wrapped  in 
utter  darkness  except  for  the  impure  glare  of 
yellow  light  from  some  low  longshore  saloon 
or  ill-smelling  restaurant.  But  farther  back 
and  higher  up  from  the  shore,  where  the  city 
was  built  on  broad  terraces  with  wide  streets 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY       I  I  I 

and  little  gardens,  shone  a  host  of  twinkling 
lights  in  the  thousand  homes  visible  far  out 
on  the  fiord,  and  welcoming  the  ships  bound 
for  the  harbour. 

Alongside  the  landing  lay  an  English 
steamer  with  the  lights  from  her  bull's-eyes 
wreathing  like  fiery  serpents  on  the  black, 
restless  water. 

A  short  distance  away  rose  the  old  fort, 
its  dark  walls  and  bastions  and  the  high 
Walkendorf  tower  half  hidden  behind  the 
silhouettes  of  leafless  lindens. 

It  was  getting  late. 

A  few  pedestrians,  who  had  been  pacing 
the  quay  with  no  other  visible  aim  than 
killing  time,  had  gone  home. 

An  equipage  came  rattling  over  the  cobble- 
stones down  the  street,  and  rolled  with  a 
hollow  sound  down  the  long  wharf.  It 
stopped  by  the  gang-plank  of  the  English 
steamer,  and  Lyder  van  Meeren  with  three 
of  his  bons  amis  stepped  out. 

They  hurried  across  the  gang-plank  and 
into  the  smoking-saloon  on  the  deck. 


112      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Lyder  ordered  champagne  and  produced  a 
box  of  cigars  from  his  valise. 

Aunt  Katarina,  a  rich  maiden  sister  of  his 
father,  had  given  him  a  five  hundred  crown 
bill,  telling  him  to  use  it  for  amusements  on 
the  long  journey  and  sometimes  think  of  her 
when  he  did  so.  She  had  always  been  fond 
of  Lyder. 

He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  begin  right 
now.  Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time, 
he  would  be  one  of  the  dons  amis. 

He  felt  a  reckless  desire  to  forget.  He 
must  drown  that  constant  whisper  of  his 
conscience,  drown  it  in  wine  that  sparkles, 
in  laughter. 

He  listened,  seemingly  with  great  enjoy- 
ment, to  the  equivoke  anecdotes  of  his 
comrades.  But  there  was  a  crack  in  his 
laughter;  his  friends  did  not  hear  it,  but  he 
himself  felt  it. 

He  must  be  strong ;  how  could  he  other- 
wise succeed  in  the  world?  He  must  tear 
himself  loose,  violently  cut  the  thread  with 
one  rash  stroke,  and  be  a  man.  He  yet  felt 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY       113 

his  mother's  and  sister's  tears  on  his  cheek; 
that  tall,  stately  gentleman,  his  father,  he 
too  had  wept  strangely  when  he  embraced 
his  son  and  bade  him  good-bye.  Away ! 
—  Away  with  it!  Drown  it  all  in  wine 
and  laughter !  Yes,  he  was  one  of  the  dons 
amis  that  night. 

A  stupor  fell  over  him  as  he  stood  by  the 
railing  of  the  ship  looking  at  his  friends 
walking  up  the  wharf  arm  in  arm,  stagger- 
ing drunkenly,  singing,  in  a  fearful  way 
with  hoarse  voices,  some  operatic  drinking- 
song.  The  first  gray  light  of  earliest  morn- 
ing fell  over  the  last  picture  of  them.  He 
tried  to  imprint  that  picture  on  his  mind  to 
cover  up  all  the  others  of  that  day  and  all 
the  days  before,  that  it  might  be  easier  for 
him  to  leave. 

Lyder  was  drunk  too,  for  he  had  taken 
as  much  as  the  others ;  but  he  could  yet 
hear  the  echo  of  voices  far,  far  away, — his 
mother's,  Helga's,  his  father's  last  farewell. 
It  rose  as  a  high  wall  between  the  past 

and  his  future.    It  hammered  in  his  head. 

8 


114      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

His  lips  were  burning,  and  he  ordered  more 
champagne. 

Standing  alone  in  the  centre  of  the  smok- 
ing-saloon,  he  filled  the  slender  glass  until 
it  overflowed,  and  with  drunken  laughter 
emptied  it  —  for  L  ove.  He  dropped  the  glass, 
breaking  it.  He  looked  around,  and  in  the 
gray  light  of  morning,  mingled  with  the 
yellow  glare  from  the  lamps,  there  seemed 
to  stand  in  the  open  door,  a  tall  girl  in  black 
woollen  gown  with  a  white  kerchief  pushed 
from  her  head  down  over  her  shoulders.  She 
was  terribly  pale,  and  her  eyes  wore  an  ex- 
pression of  unfathomable  despair.  In  that 
mingling  of  natural  and  artificial  light,  she 
seemed  to  tremble.  She  did  not  open  her 
lips  nor  change  her  expression ;  that  frown 
of  despair  was  frozen  into  her  forehead.  She 
looked  at  him  steadily,  her  arms  stretched 
before  her,  the  pallor  of  death  on  her  cheeks. 

Lyder  gazed  at  her  with  glassy  eyes.  He 
gave  a  deep  swallow  to  gain  the  power  of 
his  tongue,  and  made  a  desperate  struggle 
to  gather  his  senses.  He  ran  toward  her, 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      115 

but  she  moved  away  noiselessly,  without 
stirring  a  limb. 

She  moved  out  through  the  door,  across 
the  deck,  never  altering  the  deep  frown  of 
insane  despair  on  her  forehead.  She  glided 
on  over  the  gray  water, — fainter,  fainter, 
fainter,  then  melted  into  the  dark,  fog-laden 
mountain. 

The  propeller  made  a  rumbling  noise ;  the 
sailors  passed  back  and  forth  on  the  deck, 
busy  with  their  work,  while  Lyder  still  kept 
staring  in  the  direction  she  had  gone.  He 
expected  that  phantom  of  his  mind  to  re- 
appear ;  but  all  in  vain. 

Gathering  himself  together,  he  walked  to 
his  stateroom ;  exhausted  of  vital  power,  he 
soon  fell  into  a  slumber  full  of  strange, 
haunting  dreams. 

The  steamer  was  speeding  out  the  fiord 
with  Lyder  van  Meeren  on  board  —  out,  out, 
with  his  future  at  her  prow. 


IX 

WINTER  fell. 
The  poor  suffered  from  cold  and 
deprivation.  Bundled  up  in  rags,  they 
walked  from  one  wood-sloop  to  another  with 
the  hope  of  saving  one  farthing  on  a  bundle 
of  brushwood. 

The  charitable  institutions  held  meetings 
and  contributed  funds  to  ameliorate  the  great 
need.  But  there  was  too  much  of  it.  The 
relief  was  but  momentary.  Men  who  never 
before  had  needed  charity,  bent  their  heads 
and  killed  their  pride  to  keep  their  families 
from  starving.  Work  was  very  scarce,  and 
rumour  of  war  became  loud  among  the  civil- 
ised nations.  And  in  the  countries  not 
engaged  in  the  quarrel  there  was  a  wild 
desire  that  war  might  begin,  and  in  some 
way  relieve  business.  From  the  pulpits 
ardent  prayers  were  sent  heavenwards  for 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY    ,!!/ 

relief ;  but  the  snow  fell  listlessly  deeper  and 
deeper  over  the  land. 

The  sun  broke  through  the  clouds,  and 
glittered  in  snow-crystals  on  the  frosty  morn- 
ings. How  grand  and  beautiful  was  nature ; 
how  light  and  cheerful  everything  looked  in 
the  sunshine,  wrapped  in  pure,  white  winter 
dress ;  but  what  a  darkness  in  civilised 
society:  —  hopes  of  wholesale  slaughter  of 
men  as  a  means  of  financial  relief  for  those 
who  looked  on,  or  for  the  one  who  was  to 
be  the  winner  of  the  battles !  Selfishness, 
thoughtlessness,  and  civilised  ignorance  and 
crime  ruling  the  world  ! 

But  those  who  were  on  the  upper  steps 
leading  to  the  throne  of  mammon  continued 
to  enjoy  life.  The  balls  had  never  been  more 
numerous  or  more  elegant,  nor  the  ladies' 
toilets  more  costly.  Champagne  flowed  in 
torrents ;  gayety,  reckless  extravagance,  and 
flightiness  accompanied  the  hard  times, 
though  it  was  impossible  to  tell  who  would 
be  the  next  to  tumble  into  the  abyss  and 
draw  others  with  him.  Even  some  of  the 


Il8      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

oldest,  hitherto  considered  impregnable  busi- 
ness houses  closed  their  doors,  and  Berentz 
&  Son  were  among  them. 

Up  in  the  north  a  terrible  hurricane  swept 
over  the  cold  sea  and  dreary  islands.  It 
howled  in  concert  with  the  merciless  waves, 
it  lifted  huts  from  their  foundations ;  untold 
lives  were  lost  and  homes  destroyed ;  bitter 
poverty  stared  into  the  faces  of  many. 
Fathers,  sons,  and  husbands  seeking  bread 
on  the  sea  —  gone  forever. 

The  great  merchants  in  the  cities,  backed 
by  capital  and  social  privileges,  charitably 
contributed,  when  times  became  so  hard,  to 
the  temporary  alleviation  of  the  needy.  The 
young  folk  of  the  privileged  classes  gave  the- 
atrical performances,  the  returns  of  which 
were  also  sent  northward.  And  the  papers 
spoke  with  loud  praise  of  this  Christian  spirit 
which  helped  those  in  need.  Beautiful  young 
girls  embroidered  and  stitched  for  the  bazaars, 
which  usually  ended  with  an  elegant  ball. 
But,  up  the  coast,  the  sea  sang  its  old  song. 
Treacherous,  treacherous  is  the  sea;  not  so 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      IIQ 

charitable  as  the  rich,  not  so  loving  and  wise 
as  Christian  society ! 

Helga  was  walking  home  late  one  evening 
from  a  small  party  with  Hans  Gram  and  his 
Petra. 

Petra  was  an  old  schoolmate  of  Helga's. 
She  had  always  been  a  little  odd ;  not  pretty, 
but  very  bright. 

Hans  Gram  was  editor  of  "  The  Liberal 
Press."  He  was  a  stanch  upholder  of  the 
liberal  ministry,  and  had  earned  the  deep 
hatred  of  the  plutocratic  and  official  party 
for  the  way  he  attacked  its  policies  and  some 
of  its  leading  lights. 

Helga  was  coming  more  and  more  under 
the  influence  of  these  friends.  She  had 
learned  from  them  to  think  independently. 
They  had  opened  her  eyes  to  many  abuses 
which  formerly  she  either  had  not  thought 
of  at  all,  or  else  had  considered  must  be 
so  —  for  society  was  that  way. 

They  accompanied  her  as  far  as  the  city 
arch.  From  there,  Helga  had  only  a  few 
steps  more  to  the  garden  gate. 


I2O      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF    SIMPLICITY 

The  wind  was  blowing  icy  cold  from  the 
frozen  fiord,  and  she  forbade  her  friends  to 
go  any  farther  out  of  the  shelter  of  the  houses 
to  the  open  country  road,  particularly  as 
Petra  had  a  slight  cold. 

Helga  passed  through  the  dark  arch  of 
the  city  entrance.  As  she  reached  the 
garden  portal,  she  saw  a  woman  standing  in 
the  deep  snow,  leaning  against  one  of  the 
lindens. 

It  was  a  young  girl  dressed  in  shabby 
finery. 

She  stood  bending  forward,  with  her  head 
against  the  tree-trunk,  spitting  out  blood 
upon  the  snow.  When  she  heard  footsteps, 
she  lifted  her  head.  Her  face  was  yellow, 
her  eyes  were  glassy  and  underlined  with 
dark  streaks ;  her  countenance  wore  a 
peculiar  wilted  look  in  the  moonlight,  as  she 
nodded  to  Helga  and  smiled. 

The  wind  drove  the  clouds  with  great 
velocity,  making  the  light  of  the  moon  very 
uncertain.  Helga  stepped  out  into  the 
deep  snow  and  went  close  to  her. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      121 

"Are  you  sick?  "  she  asked. 

The  girl  nodded.  "  Can't  you  see  it  ?  " 
she  replied,  and  laughed  foolishly.  "  Don't 
you  know  me,  Miss  Helga  ?  " 

Helga  scrutinised  her. 

"  You  ought  to,  for  I  am  your  sister." 

The  girl  was  evidently  drunk.  A  horrible 
smell  of  liquor  accompanied  her  words. 

"  Let  me  help  you  if  I  can,"  said  Helga, 
kindly.  "  Of  course  we  are  all  sisters,  and 
if  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  I  will." 

"  Yes,  there  are  —  there  are  many  kinds  of 
sisters,"  said  the  girl,  looking  intently  at 
Helga.  She  took  a  step  closer  to  her,  so  her 
body  touched  hers.  Her  walk  was  unsteady ; 
Helga  involuntarily  withdrew  a  little. 

"  Don't  —  don't  be  afraid  of  me,  Miss. 
I— I  —  " 

"  Let  me  help  you  out  of  this  deep  snow," 
said  Helga,  feeling  ashamed  of  her  fear. 
She  took  her  by  the  arm  and  led  her  to  the 
sidewalk.  "  Where  do  you  live  ?  Can't  I 
help  you  home  ?  " 

"  No  —  you  —  can't ;  no  —  Miss,  not  even 


122       UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

if  you  are  my  sister,  for  my  home  —  home 
—  is  where  I  happen  to  go,  —  eh  ?  I  feel 
kind  of  played  out  to-night  or  I  would 
see  Jens  Birk  —  you  know  him  —  eh  — 
'course  you  do  —  he  pays  well  when  I  tease 
him  for  it,  by  God." 

Helga  shuddered.  She  came  near  losing 
her  hold  of  the  girl's  arm,  who  moved  still 
closer  up  to  her,  swallowing  the  blood 
which  came  into  her  mouth  and  spitting 
loudly. 

"  Whu  —  that  tastes  like  raw  meat. 
Had  n't  you  better  let  go  of  me,  Miss  Helga, 
though  I  am  your  sister,  for "  —  she 
whispered  it  very  confidentially  —  "your 
father  is  my  father."  Then  she  laughed 
hoarsely  and  hiccuped. 

"  Woman,  what  do  you  say  ?  Woman  !  " 
ejaculated  Helga.  "  You  my  sister,  my 
father's  child !  —  Oh,  you  tell  me  a 
falsehood !  " 

"  I  do,  do  I  ?  —  Now  don't  you  look  so 
scared,  Miss  —  Miss  Helga,  you  fool  you ; 
it  is  not  you,  it 's  your  father  —  and  I 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY       123 

would  n't  have  told  you  if  I  had  been  sober, 
I  —  I  don't  think  I  would.  If  he  just  would 
give  us  more  money,  lots  of  money  —  if  he 
had  let  me  be  nice  —  nice  —  nice  like  you," 
and  she  patted  Helga's  boa,  "  you  might 
not  have  been  ashamed  of  your  sister  then  ; 
but  can't  you  go  and  tell  him  what  I  have  to 
do  to  get  money  ?  Don't  you  see,  if  I  had 
money,  lots  of  money,  then  I  would  have  — 
well,  all  I  needed,  don't  you  see  ?  "  And  she 
laughed  an  ugly,  cracked  laugh. 

Hardly  knowing  what  she  did,  Helga  had 
thrown  her  arms  around  the  drunken  girl 
and  pressed  her  to  her  breast. 

"  Come,"  she  said  lovingly,  "  come ;  we 
will  go  quietly  up  to  my  room  ;  you  shall 
sleep  in  my  bed ;  I  will  make  a  good  fire  for 
you  ;  I  will  sit  by  the  bed  and  nurse  you,  for 
you  are  sick.  Oh  my  God  !  my  God !  How 
is  it  possible,  my  God !  —  Come,  come,  little 
girl,  come.  I  shall  see  to  it,  you  will  not 
surfer  any  more  — come." 

"  No,  no,  I  won't,  Miss.  The  old  man 
would  n't  like  it ;  he  would  kick  me  out  in 


124      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

the  morning  —  oh  no,  no,  no,  I  have  made 
trouble  enough  between  him  and  your  Ma  — 
no,  I  won't — I'll  just  sail  into  town  again, 
I  '11  sail  into  town  again  and  find  Mother  — 
there  is  a  dance  at  Valhalla  to-night,  and 
lots  of  my  friends  there  —  if  only  I  could 
stop  that  damned  blood !  " 

"  Let  me  go  with  you,  bring  you  home. 
You  must  go  to  bed,  child,  you  must" 
said  Helga,  her  voice  filled  with  deepest 
emotion. 

"  That  'Id  be  pretty  company  to  be  in  ! 
You  'd  get  a  nice  reputation,  even  if  I  am 
your  sister!  No,  no,  you  just  go  to  bed, 
yourself,  see  —  eh?  And  dream  of  your 
sweetheart.  Puh,  it  is  n't  the  first  time  I 
have  been  bleeding ;  it  helps  to  eat  snow, 
but,"  and  she  whispered  confidentially,  "I 
am  a  little  drunk  to-night  —  those  '  mos- 
jeus  '  you  know  —  eh?  I  know  you  know 
how  they  are  —  eh?  Goobye;  "  and  she  ran 
towards  town,  swaying  in  her  walk. 

Helga  held  on  to  the  heavy  brass  knocker 
on  the  door. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY       125 

She  pressed  it  hard  in  her  gloved  hands. 

The  wind  swept  the  clouds  past  the  moon, 
casting  flying  shadows  over  the  snow- 
covered  country.  A  chill  ran  through  her 
when  she  saw  these  dark  shapes  hurry  over 
the  smooth  surface  of  the  frozen  fiord.  They 
seemed  a  host  of  ghosts  coming  to  visit  her. 
She  dreaded  their  touch,  —  furies,  who  were 
coming  to  take  her  peace  away. 

She  fumbled  in  her  pocket  for  the  key. 
She  had  hold  of  it,  but  dropped  it  again.  A 
dizziness  almost  overcame  her. 

The  bright  moonlight  glittered  on  the 
frozen  fiord,  then  again  it  became  dark.  A 
few  flakes  of  snow  fell  slowly,  trembling. 
Up  among  the  clouds  the  wind  was  busy, 
hurrying  them  eastward  towards  the  moun- 
tains, but  down  on  earth  it  had  gone  to 
rest;  not  a  twig  moved  on  the  large  trees  in 
the  park.  There  was  a  deathly  silence  as  in 
the  crystal  palace  of  the  snow  queen. 

Helga  was  in  doubt  whether  to  enter  the 
home.  Had  she  a  right  to  stay  there,  when 
she  had  a  sister  out  in  the  night  —  drunk, 


126      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

spitting  blood,  fallen ;  sold,  body  and  soul  — 
for  money  ? 

Helga  struggled  to  find  an  excuse  to  com- 
fort herself  withal,  to  carry  along  that  burden 
which  so  suddenly  had  fallen  upon  her. 

Fate?  Was  that  her  sister's  fate?  Had 
humanity  no  power  against  fate  ? 

"  Indirectly,"  had  Hans  Gram  said,  "  indi- 
rectly through  fate  and  its  evolution."  No 
power,  after  all! 

That  girl  had  been  cast  where  she  must 
go  under,  deprived  of  everything  which  could 
elevate;  the  daughter  of  a  fallen  woman, 
having  grown  up  in  the  hot-house  air  of 
depravity  and  social  condemnation;  tempted 
from  her  earliest  youth,  with  lust-stained 
blood  circulating  through  her  veins  even 
before  she  was  born  —  yes,  the  greatest  sin 
had  been  done  to  her  before  ever  she  was 
born  —  and  how  had  she  not  been  sinned 
against  since  then !  And  how  about  herself, 
Helga  ?  Sheltered  behind  these  high  walls 
and  hedges,  where  it  was  so  quiet,  so  refined, 
where  there  breathed  comfort  and  plenty 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      127 

through  the  large  airy  rooms,  where  in  sum- 
mer the  flowers  smiled  upon  her;  brought 
up  in  the  sunshine  of  love,  with  everything 
needed  for  the  best  development  of  mind 
and  body! 

Then  there  arose  before  her  the  image 
of  her  tall,  handsome  father,  so  clean-looking, 
so  refined  in  his  manners,  so  above  the 
majority  of  men,  —  daily  going  in  and  out  of 
his  luxurious  home,  while  out  on  the  streets 
a  child  of  his  was  sinking  deeper  and  deeper 
into  that  utter  darkness  of  legalised  sin 
which  finds  its  relief  only  in  death. 

Could  it  be  true,  what  this  girl  had  told 
her? 

Helga  had  a  strong  intuition  that  it  was. 
In  her  mind  was  a  faint  recollection  of  once 
having  been  told  something,  which  she  then, 
yet  a  child,  did  not  comprehend. 

Yet  how  was  it  possible  ?     Her  father ! 

Could  it  be  true,  what  Hans  Gram  said, 
that  there  was  an  irresistible  current  in  life 
which  carried  humanity  with  it,  entirely  at 
its  mercy;  that  all,  the  whole  organised 


128      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

society,  was  responsible  for  the  sins  of  the 
individual ;  that  only  through  a  slow  evolu- 
tion the  good  would  some  day  conquer,  when 
there  had  come  new  generations  of  parents, 
and  new  generations  and  generations  again, 
which  should  give  their  children  inheritances 
with  increasing  percentages  of  desirable 
qualities ;  when  civilised  society  had  become 
civilised  indeed,  and  love  —  true,  unselfish 
love  —  ruled  the  world  ? 

Ah !  was  he  to  be  blamed  ? 

Could  she  condemn  him,  push  him  away 
from  her  with  utter  disdain,  the  man  who, 
after  all,  was  her  father  ?  Or  —  or  —  indeed, 
had  there  been  something  stronger  than  his 
will,  which  had  carried  him  off  against  his 
own  ideas  of  right? 

Fate  —  fate!  Hans  and  Petra  must  be 
right;  it  was  all  fate. 

How  could  there,  then,  be  question  of  one 
human  being  forgiving  another?  Ought  it 
not,  instead  of  forgiveness,  to  be  sympathy, 
love?  Ought  it  not,  instead  of  condemna- 
tion, to  be  an  extension  of  helpful  hands  to 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      I2Q 

lead  the  fallen  ones  into  better  ways,  —  a 
transfer  of  desirable  powers  through  love 
from  the  strong  to  the  weaker  one  ?  Ought 
not  civilised  society  to  be  a  unity  of  amelior- 
ating forces  to  carry  humanity  on  to  higher 
ideals,  higher  lives,  greater  happiness  ?  Yes, 
yes  —  Hans  and  Petra  were  right. 

But  how  could  he  let  his  child  drift  along 
in  the  centre  of  the  highway  of  vice? 

"  Never  condemn,  but  sympathise,"  Hans 
and  Petra  said,  when  she  sometimes  was 
rash  in  her  opinions.  She  would  go  to  her 
father,  speak  to  him  openly  about  it.  He 
was  not  hard,  he  was  generous  enough. 
People  had  told  her  he  gave  much  to  the 
poor: 

Perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  an  invention  of 
that  girl  to  extort  money  from  her. 

Helga  turned  the  key  in  the  lock  and 
entered. 


X 

ALMOST  every  two  weeks  there  came 
a  letter  from  Lyder,  who  was  in  Cali- 
fornia, where  no  winter  came. 

He  sent  home  pressed  flowers,  picked 
among  the  sand-hills  by  San  Francisco. 

He  told  of  the  great,  blue  Pacific  Ocean, 
of  the  beautiful  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  of  the 
semi-tropical  gardens,  the  Chinese  and  their 
theatres,  their  temples,  and  restaurants  ;  but 
he  never  wrote  a  word  about  work. 

Was  he  not  at  work  ? 

Herr  van  Meeren  made  no  remarks  about 
it.  His  wife  had  blamed  him  bitterly  when 
her  only  son,  whom  she  loved  so  much,  had 
left  their  home,  sent  out  in  the  world  like  a 
common  young  man  without  influences. 
She  blamed  her  husband,  because  she  knew 
that  father  and  son  did  not  agree  very  well, 
and  because  of  old  Herr  van  Meeren's  appar- 
ent indifference  to  the  future  of  Lyder. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      13! 

Then  there  was  that  hussy  with  her 
daughter  bothering  her.  They  dared  to 
smile  at  her  on  the  street ;  the  girl  had  even 
the  audacity  to  nod  to  her.  They  wrote 
threatening  letters  demanding  money.  She 
who  herself  had  been  always  true  to  her 
husband  —  she  who  had  loved  him  so  much, 
never,  never  could  have  been  unfaithful  to 
him ;  she  the  daughter  of  great  forefathers 
who  for  generations  had  held  high  offices 
in  the  king's  service !  Forgive  ?  Forgive  ? 
How  forgive  when  she  could  not  forget? 
How  lonesome  she  felt,  at  times,  in  that 
cold,  cheerless  indifference  without  hatred 
but  also  without  love !  How  she  pitied 
herself ! 

And  she  wept  when  alone,  —  wept  great, 
silent  tears  of  pity  for  herself. 

Lyder's  letters  were  a  relief.  It  consoled 
her  somewhat,  that  he  enjoyed  his  life  in  the 
far-off  country,  that  he  spoke  with  pleasure 
of  his  plans,  and  his  return  some  day  to  see 
them  all.  His  letters  were  beautifully  re- 
fined and  emotional ;  they  stirred  her  deep- 


132      UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

est  feelings.  The  more  she  pitied  herself, 
the  more  did  she  love  her  only  son,  so  mis- 
understood by  his  father,  who  had  sent  him 
unprepared  out  into  the  world.  Even  with 
the  word  "  America  "  was  associated  some- 
thing harsh  and  rude  and  democratic ;  it 
made  her  shudder. 

Helga  was  growing  more  quiet,  more 
thoughtful,  more  earnest.  She  was  con- 
stantly at  war  with  herself.  A  strong  feeling 
had  sprung  up  in  her  against  her  father, 
which  she  sought  to  stifle,  but  which  she 
felt  would  become  too  strong  for  her  if  she 
did  not  soon  speak  to  him  about  that  girl. 

Then  there  came  a  letter  from  Lyder  tell- 
ing that  his  money  was  gone,  and  he  did 
not  know  where  to  find  suitable  work.  He 
thought  that  by  the  advent  of  spring  it 
would  be  more  plentiful.  He  asked  his 
father  if  he  would  kindly  send  him  a  few 
hundred  dollars  to  carry  him  through  until 
then. 

In  former  days  Helga  would  have  sym- 
pathised with  her  brother  when  their  father 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      IJ3 

denied  him  that  help;  but  now  her  eyes 
were  open  to  many  things. 

Work  suitable  for  him  !  She  knew  what 
that  meant.  The  young  Mr.  van  Meeren 
would  not  condescend  to  become  a  common 
labourer,  when  he  could  not  get  a  position  of 
command  ;  and  what  right  had  he,  a  novice, 
to  expect  such  preference  ? 

"  Ah  me  !  "  sighed  Helga.  She  was  yet 
unsettled  in  her  new  faith.  It  seemed  hard 
to  throw  overboard  all  the  old  dogmas,  those 
ideas  of  right  and  wrong  by  which  she  had 
been  governed  since  childhood. 

Whenever  nervous  and  haunted  by  doubts, 
a  tempting  voice  still  whispered  to  her,  "  Ah, 
well !  Life  is  that  way ;  the  world  and 
society  are  made  that  way.  Take  what 
comes;  it  is  only  the  very  few  who  can 
choose  the  position  in  life  for  which  they 
are  best  suited.  Money  is  and  must  be 
the  first  consideration,  the  alpha  and  the 


omega. 


The  same  evening  she   wrote   to   Lyder 
to  be  satisfied  to  begin  at  the  foot  of  the 


134      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

ladder.  She  advised  him  to  go  to  work  on 
a  farm,  and  when  he  was  fully  convinced 
that  he  knew  enough  about  it,  to  try  to 
get  a  home  of  his  own.  u  I  hope,"  she 
added,  "  that  you  do  not  think  manual  labour 
degrading  —  far  from  it.  Hans  Gram  says 
he  knows  from  experience  that  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  the  mental  and  bodily 
well-being  of  any  man ;  that,  in  fact,  his 
moral  control  of  himself  to  a  great  extent 
depends  thereon.  It  is  over-work,  resulting 
in  ignorance  and  poverty,  which  has  de- 
graded labour  and  is  still  degrading  it ;  but 
it  is  not  the  labourer's  fault  but  that  of 
society,  which  pays  the  smallest  share  to 
him  who  carries  the  burden  of  the  day." 

Helga  enclosed  her  letter  with  her  father's. 

Herr  van  Meeren  sent  his  son  a  small 
amount  to  tide  him  over  a  few  weeks,  inside 
of  which  he  must  find  work,  suitable  or 
not. 

Herr  van  Meeren's  letter  was  written  in  a 
tender  tone,  telling  Lyder  that  the  reason 
he  did  not  send  him  the  amount  he  asked 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      135 

for  was  not  lack  of  love,  but  just  because 
he  loved  him.  Furthermore,  as  Lyder 
already  knew,  nothing  was  left  of  his 
fortune,  and  he  would  have  had  to  borrow 
the  money,  not  knowing  whether  he  would 
be  able  to  pay  it  back.  He  wrote  to  his 
son  earnest  words  out  of  a  life  full  of  ex- 
perience, expressing  the  wish  that  he  him- 
self were  young  again  that  he  might  com- 
mence anew.  He  even  condescended  to 
add  in  a  confidential  way  that  the  more  he 
saw  of  life,  the  more  assured  he  became 
that  in  only  the  fewest  cases  did  inherited 
fortunes  bring  blessings  to  their  possessors. 
To  bring  true  happiness,  money  —  which 
meant  daily  bread — must  be  earned  by  the 
sweat  of  the  brow. 

"  Ah  me ! "  sighed  Herr  van  Meeren,  as  he 
closed  the  letter.  "  If  I  were  only  young 
again  and  poor!"  And  somehow  he  had 
a  vague  feeling  that  there  was  something 
in  the  old  social  institutions  which  ought 
not  to  be  so,  even  though  it  always  had 
been  so. 


136      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

Yet,  could  he  forsake  his  old  opinions? 
How  was  it  possible  for  him  to  drive  away 
the  facts  of  former  prosperous  days  ?  And 
now?  Lack  of  faith  everywhere,  dissatis- 
faction, hatred.  Bah !  He  almost  hated 
these  radicals,  these  —  these  traitors !  What 
else  could  he  call  them  ? 


XI 

IT  was  New  Year's  day. 
The  evening  before,  there  had  been  a 
great  ball  at  the  Schliitters'. 

Helga  had  felt  compelled  to  go,  not  to 
insult  her  old  friends ;  but  she  had  long 
since  ceased  taking  any  pleasure  in  these 
society  affairs. 

Jens  Birk,  who  was  now  married  to  Karen 
Schliitter,  asked  her  for  a  dance. 

She  could  find  no  excuse  for  refusing  him, 
much  as  she  hated  to  feel  herself  close  to  a 
man  who  made  so  terrible  a  use  of  his  su- 
perfluity of  money  and  another's  need  of  it 
—  a  woman's  need. 

It  was  a  waltz  she  gave  him. 

The  string-band  played  well.  Jens  Birk 
was  a  graceful  dancer,  despite  his  obesity. 

The  lights  were  mellow  and  dreaming; 
the  air  was  filled  with  perfumes ;  they  whirled 
and  whirled,  —  Jens  Birk  and  Helga. 


138      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

He  had  courted  her  once,  and  she  had 
loved  him  a  little,  several  years  ago,  while 
very  young.  He  whispered  to  her  of  those 
days;  he  spoke  about  them  with  such  tact, 
in  such  a  sympathetic  tone.  And  they 
whirled  and  whirled,  light  and  graceful,  —  oh, 
so  very  light,  —  amid  the  perfumes  of  wilting 
flowers.  She  forgot  his  sins.  A  strange 
nervous  happiness  floated  into  her  soul,  so 
light,  so  indescribably  light,  she  felt.  Her 
nostrils  dilated,  but  she  did  not  feel  tired ; 
her  mind  seemed  benumbed,  but  through 
her  body  thrilled  a  sensation  of  strange  de- 
light. A  pressure  from  his  hand  —  still 
whirling  —  whirling  —  the  perfumes  of  flow- 
ers and  elegant,  rustling  toilets  —  the  other 
dancers  whirling  past  them  —  then  lights 
and  everything  in  a  blur — fast  carried  off  to- 
ward dreamland — and  every  once  in  a  while 
that  thrill  followed  by  the  benumbed  sensa- 
tion—  again  a  faint  pressure  of  his  hand  — 
his  arm  around  her  waist  moved  nearer  to 
her  body ;  she  wished,  in  a  half-compre- 
hended way,  that  dance  would  last  forever  — 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      I  ^ 

intoxicating  everything;  everything  in  a 
whirl  farther  and  farther  away,  dimmer  and 
dimmer  — 

Suddenly  a  great  fear  took  possession  of 
her.  She  could  have  screamed.  Her  sister 
—  for  God's  sake,  her  sister  out  there  in  the 
snow,  drunk,  degraded,  sold  —  sold  to  Jens 
Birk  for  money. 

"  Please,"  she  whispered,  "  let  me  go  —  I 
am  tired — please"  she  demanded;  and  grace- 
fully he  brought  her  out  from  among  the 
dancers.  As  he  found  a  seat  for  her  on  the 
sofa  next  to  Fru  van  Meeren,  he  saw  she 
was  very  pale.  He  made  a  low  bow  before 
her,  and  thanked  her  for  the  very  enjoyable 
dance. 

A  little  while  after,  he  was  told,  she  had 
fainted  and  had  been  taken  home  by  her 
mother. 

This  first  day  in  the  new  year  awakened 
under  a  clear  sky.  The  sunshine  glittered  in 
the  crystals  of  the  frozen  snow.  The  church- 
bells  sang  cheerily  in  the  pure  morning  air. 


I4O      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

People,  attired  in  their  Sunday  best,  were 
on  the  road  to  church  to  thank  the  Father 
of  all  for  his  good  gifts  in  the  year  which 
had  passed,  and  to  ask  him  for  his  blessings 
in  the  twelvemonth  to  come. 

The  old,  sombre  hymns  of  the  Lutheran 
church  rose  from  the  immense  pipe  organ, 
mingled  with  a  thousand  voices  into  an  un- 
harmonious  whole.  But  they  came  from 
simple,  needful  hearts,  and  brought  conso- 
lation and  strength,  —  these  old,  old  hymns, 
which  carry  with  them  the  history  of  the 
Christian  Church  from  ages  back. 

But  all  around,  the  mountains  stood  silent 
in  winter  clothes,  reaching  far  into  the  frosty 
air. 

Helga  had  made  up  her  mind  to  begin 
the  new  year  rightly. 

She  would  speak  to  her  father  about  what 
oppressed  her.  All  day  she  made  excuses 
for  not  doing  it,  such  as,  that  it  was  the  first 
day  in  the  year,  and  she  would  not  com- 
mence it  disagreeably  by  reminding  him  of 
such  trouble. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

But  when  twilight  came,  and  Herr  van 
Meeren  took  his  walk  upon  the  king's  high- 
way, Helga  met  him.  She  made  it  appear 
as  if  it  were  a  happy  accident,  and,  smiling, 
she  laid  her  arm  in  his. 

He  looked  unusually  well  that  day,  she 
thought,  —  so  becomingly  dressed  for  an  eld- 
erly gentleman,  in  his  high,  stiff  shirt  collar 
and  white  silken  cravat,  his  well-fitting  black 
broadcloth  suit  and  high  hat ;  so  tall  and 
handsome  with  his  snow-white  hair. 

Ah,  if  there  only  had  not  been  that  —  but 
—  about  him. 

It  could  not  possibly  be  so ! 

They  walked  along,  meeting  many  of  their 
acquaintances,  greeting  them  in  passing, 
wishing  them  a  happy  New  Year. 

The  street  lamps  were  getting  farther 
apart. 

They  had  reached  the  last  one  on  the 
highway,  at  the  gate  of  the  last  suburban 
residence.  From  thence  onward  was  only 
the  light  of  stars  and  a  faint  reflection  from 
the  snow. 


142       UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

They  reached  the  group  of  rowan-trees, 
where  there  was  only  a  narrow  trail  with 
deep  snow  on  both  sides. 

It  was  here  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to 
begin. 

Pressing  close  to  her  father,  as  if  afraid  of 
the  darkness,  she  looked  up  into  his  face  to 
see  if  its  expression  was  sorrowful  or  happy. 
But  she  could  read  nothing  there. 

He  turned  his  head  towards  her  when  he 
felt  her  look,  and  pressed  her  arm  gently. 

Something  in  her  eyes,  as  they  met  his, 
touched  him.  He  wondered  if  she  knew  the 
full  extent  of  his  love  for  her,  — how  much 
he  loved  both  her  and  Lyder ;  how  indeed  he 
constantly  longed  for  his  son,  not  feeling 
quite  sure  if  it  had  not  been  a  little  hard, 
indeed  a  little  too  rash  in  him,  to  deny  Lyder 
that  money.  Surely  it  had  taken  all  his  will- 
power to  do  it.  How  he  wished  he  could 
have  kept  him  at  home,  after  he  showed  the 
desire  of  doing  his  best,  —  at  home,  where  he 
could  be  near  him  and  guide  him,  give  him 
the  benefit  of  his  experience,  so  dearly  won. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      143 

Even  if  his  own  life  had  become  no  life  at  all, 
he  could  yet  live  it  anew  in  his  children. 

In  sanguine  moments  he  had  come  so  far 
as  to  dream  of  a  reconciliation  with  his  wife. 
There  was  nothing  on  earth  he  desired  more 
than  that ;  he  would  give  his  life  for  it. 

"  Father,"  said  Helga,  in  a  loving  voice, 
looking  up  to  him,  "  father,  I  met  acciden- 
tally one  evening  a  fallen  woman."  She 
clung  to  his  arm  as  if  afraid  to  lose  him.  "  It 
was  outside  our  portal.  She  stood  leaning 
against  one  of  the  lindens,  knee-deep  in  the 
snow ;  she  was  somewhat  intoxicated,  and  on 
the  snow  was  a  dark  spot  of  blood  where  she 
had  had  a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs.  I  felt 
so  sorry  for  her." 

"  Did  you  not  speak  to  her,  help  her  ? 
Poor  thing !  What  a  pity  that  there  must 
exist  such  beings  !  " 

Helga  began  to  feel  safe.  How  could  he 
speak  that  way  when  he  himself  — 

"  Yes ;  and  what  do  you  think,  father  ?  — 
in  her  intoxicated  state,  she  wanted  me  to 
believe  she  was  my  sister !  " 


144     UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

Herr  van  Meeren  did  not  answer.  Helga 
looked  questioningly  at  him  and  pressed  her 
cheek  against  his  arm. 

That  silence  sent  a  terrible  fear  through 
her. 

Herr  van  Meeren  was  pale.  He  held  her 
arm  pressed  to  his  body,  afraid  lest  she  with- 
draw it  before  he  could  find  words  to  answer 
her. 

"Perhaps— yes  —  perhaps  she  spoke  the 
truth  —  perhaps.  She  was  not  your  sister, 
but  —  "  He  hesitated  an  instant,  then  added 
slowly,  "  my  child." 

"  It  was  long  ago,  Helga,"  he  continued, 
speaking  firmly,  as  he  laid  his  arm  around 
her,  hearing  her  weeping  —  "long  ago,  when 
I  was  young.  I  was  tempted  and  fell — she 
is  my  child,"  he  added  with  a  deep,  earnest 
voice. 

The  wind  piped  softly  in  the  naked  crowns 
of  the  old  rowan-trees. 

Helga  never  knew  how  it  escaped  her  lips  ; 
but  freeing  herself  from  her  father's  arm,  she 
looked  defiantly  at  him,  and  in  a  cold  voice 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      145 

asked,  "  And  is  that  the  way  you  treat  your 
child  ? " 

There  came  no  answer;  but  Herr  van 
Meeren  did  not  lower  his  eyes  before  his 
daughter. 

"  She  told  me,"  Helga  continued,  "that  to 
earn  her  bread  she,  your  child,  must  sell 
her  flesh ! " 

"Stop,  stop,  Helga;  stop  —  she  told  you 
a  falsehood.  I  have  given  them  all  they 
needed,  and  more  than  that ;  but  her  mother 
squanders  all  I  give  her;  she  has  brought 
her  daughter  up  in  that  way,  after  her  own 
licentious  life.  I  —  I  —  have  done  my  utmost 
to  save  that  child,  but  in  vain.  It  were  far 
better  she  had  been  killed  when  born — that 
she  had  not  been  born  —  but,  my  God,  what 
can  I  do?" 

"  Nothing  —  nothing  now  —  very  likely 
her  days  are  numbered.  Her  dissolute  life 
will  soon  make  an  end  to  her  diseased  body ; 
but  her  soul!  What  responsibility!  It 
seems  improbable  to  me  that  there  was  not 

a   time  when  she   would   have   been  saved 

10 


146      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

with  your  money,  your  social  influence. 
Even  if  you  did  not  take  her  into  your 
home,  could  you  not  have  bettered  her 
opportunities,  made  a  woman  of  her,  —  used 
every  possible  means  of  saving  her?  How 
is  it  possible  that  you,  whom  I  have  loved 
and  revered,  looked  up  to,  whom  everybody 
looks  up  to,  has  a  child  on  the  street  slowly 
dying  the  worst  of  all  deaths ;  that  your 
hands  are  covered  with  the  heart-blood  of 
your  own  child  !  My  God,  my  God,  have 
mercy !  I  know  your  excuses,  father ;  you 
need  not  speak.  The  code  of  Christian 
society  forbade  your  taking  her  into  your 
home  ;  your  wife  would  have  forbidden  you ; 
your  friends  would  have  lifted  their  hands 
in  wonderment  and  disdain ;  a  howl  would 
have  arisen  from  all  around.  Rather  let 
this  human  being  be  lost  forever,  rather  let 
the  laws  —  these  insane  laws  —  be  carried 
out ;  deprive  this  child  of  the  right  of  her 
father's  home,  an  outcast  before  she  was  born, 
one  —  even  if  she  grew  up  a  good  woman  — 
the  world  would  eye  askance.  And  then 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      147 

you  threw  money  to  them ;  but  that  money 
stained  your  hands,  for  where  was  the  love 
which  excuses  all,  purifies  all  its  deeds  ?  Oh, 
I  am  ashamed  of  my  father !  " 

Helga  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
sobbed. 

She  had  spoken  excitedly,  thinking  only 
of  what  burned  in  her  to  be  uttered ;  but 
seeing  her  father's  face  full  of  grief,  seeing 
him  stand  there  receiving  uncomplainingly 
her  lashes,  she  suddenly  felt  a  great  pity 
for  him.  She  went  close  to  him,  and  em- 
bracing his  arm  leaned  her  forehead  against 
his  shoulder,  and  said  gently,  — 

"  Oh,  father,  what  more  right  had  I  to 
your  home,  your  love,  and  to  all  you  have 
given  me  than  she  ?  Oh,  that  home  with 
its  beautiful  garden !  I  have  no  right  there 
any  longer,  with  a  sister  out  in  the  dark 
streets.  A  call  has  come  to  me  from  your 
child ;  I  must  search  the  highways  and 
byways  for  such  sisters ;  I  shall  never  have 
peace  until  I  am  at  work  in  some  way  or 
other  to  redeem  that  burden  of  debt  with 


148      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

which  the  favoured  opportunities  of  society 
have  encumbered  me.  That  home  is  not 
my  home.  I  can  stay  there,  for  you  and 
mamma  are  there ;  but  I  must  redeem  it  in 
some  way,  or  it  will  become  forbidden 
to  me.  Oh,  father !  "  Again  she  pressed 
her  face  against  his  breast  and  sobbed. 

Herr  van  Meeren's  eyes  were  full  of  tears, 
his  whole  body  trembled ;  but  he  could  find 
no  words. 

Hope,  hope  1  where  was  there  hope  for 
him? 

He  saw  all  plainly  now.  Yet  had  he  not 
striven  against  it,  —  against  that  combina- 
tion of  forces  stronger  than  his  will,  which 
had  been  working  against  him,  which  had 
ruined  his  life  ? 

"  Child,"  he  said,  "  my  own  dear  little  girl, 
what  can  I  say  to  you  ?  Ask  your  forgive- 
ness? How  can  I,  when  I  see  no  way  in 
which  I  could  have  escaped ;  when,  as  I 
look  back  upon  my  life,  I  can  see  how  one 
thing  has  worked  into  the  other,  how  one 
power  has  combined  with  another  and  grown 


UNTO -THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      149 

strongest  when  I  was  the  weakest  ?  Oh,  I 
have  suffered  for  years  the  pang  of  loneliness, 
of  being  unforgiven  by  others,  by  myself. 
I  see  no  hope,  no  hope !  My  little  girl, 
it  is  terrible  to  stand  here  in  the  evening  of 
my  day  hunting  for  hope,  for  escape.  Child, 
if  I  had  known  then  what  I  know  now,  it 
would  have  been  otherwise.  Life  is  so 
strange,  so  terribly  undefined  and  contra- 
dictory in  its  demands,  that  often  not  before 
a  man  is  ready  to  die  does  he  see  it  in  its 
totality  of  failures.  My  heart  is  bleeding 
to  think  of  that  child  of  mine  living  such 
a  life.  But  what  can  I  do  now  ?  Take  her, 
polluted  as  she  is,  into  my  home  ?  I  will 
try  again  to  save  her,  send  her  away  into 
the  country,  among  good  people.  I  have 
done  it  twice  already ;  but  she  is  wild,  there 
is  something  so  utterly  licentious  in  her 
nature  —  I  despair  of  saving  her." 

Despite  Helga's  attention  to  his  little  lik- 
ings and  despite  her  caresses,  Herr  van 
Meeren  felt  that  there  had  come  something 


I5O      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

between  them  which  never  could  be  totally 
blotted  out. 

He  could  not  have  believed  it  possible 
that  a  child  of  his  would  ever  speak  to  him 
in  that  way. 

Helga's  words,  "I  am  ashamed  of  my 
father,"  kept  repeating  themselves  in  his 
thoughts  with  that  expression  of  disdain  in 
which  they  had  been  spoken. 

Those  words  had  separated  them  for  life. 

He  hoped,  when  alone  and  feeling  bitter, 
she  never  again  would  mention  those  things 
to  him,  for  after  all  what  business  of  hers  was 
it,  what  explanation  did  he  owe  her  for  it? 
Had  everybody  combined  against  him? 

This  lack  of  respect  in  children  for  their 
parents  was  one  of  the  influences  of  the 
time.  He  knew  from  whence  it  had  been 
brought  to  poison  the  inexperienced  minds 
of  the  young. 

He  had  seen  with  considerable  displeasure 
the  preference  Helga  showed  for  that  Hans 
Gram  and  his  emancipated  wife,  and  for 
those  radicals  their  friends.  It  was  just 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY       151 

what  he  had  been  fearing,  that  they  would 
turn  his  child's  mind  against  her  parents, 
kill  love  and  obedience  through  their  doc- 
trines, tearing  down  the  good  old  laws  under 
which  society  had  prospered  so  long. 

Helga's  experience  at  the  New  Year's  ball 
had  made  her  think ;  it  helped  her  to  forgive, 
—  "never  judge,  but  sympathise." 

There  were  wonderful  powers  in  life  — 
wonderful.  She  had  felt  a  power  stronger 
than  her  own  mind ;  it  made  her  understand 
much,  excuse  much,  love  much.  It  came  in 
time  to  keep  her  from  hating  her  father,  yes, 
taught  her  to  love  him  more  than  ever. 


XII 

IT  had  been  snowing  the  whole  day.  The 
wind  whirled  the  soft  flakes  mingled 
with  rain-drops  around  the  street  corners. 
People  held  their  umbrellas  low  over  their 
heads.  Everybody  was  in  a  rush,  no  one 
seemed  inclined  to  stop  for  a  chat;  news 
had  little  value,  their  sole  desire  was  to  get 
under  shelter  from  this  soggy  cold. 

Inside  the  double  windows  at  the  Van 
Meerens'  it  seemed  very  cozy.  There  was  a 
homely  fragrance  of  salted  rose-leaves,  which 
had  been  put  on  the  stove,  where  the  fire 
murmured  and  crackled. 

Helga  stood  by  the  window.  She  looked 
out,  lost  in  thought,  at  the  whirling  snow- 
flakes. 

She  had  had  a  letter  from  Lyder,  that 
morning. 

He  was  working  in  a  large  vineyard,  learn- 
ing to  prune  and  plough;  he  said  he  was 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      153 

happy.  He  wrote  that  he  had  never  felt  so 
well  before.  He  had  captured  the  heart  of 
his  employer's  wife  by  playing  for  her  on 
the  piano  and  taking  interest  in  her  flowers. 
She  had  asked  all  about  his  people  at  home 
and  seemed  greatly  interested.  "  Norway  is  a 
part  of  Germany,  ain't  it  ? "  she  had  asked. 
Helga  laughed  aloud  when  reading  it. 

This  letter  was  not  so  full  of  dreamy  long- 
ings as  his  others  had  been.  Lyder  had 
met  a  young  man  in  that  strange  country  of 
selfishness,  who  he  hoped  would  prove  a 
true  friend  to  him.  "  But  here  everybody  is 
for  himself;  here  everything  is  money. 
Money!  Indeed  it  is  the  alpha  and  the 
omega." 

Helga  remained  dreaming  at  the  window 
for  a  while,  then  went  to  the  piano  and 
sang  Schubert's  "Standchen,"  at  the  same 
time  dreaming  herself  away  to  the  land 
where,  instead  of  snow,  there  were  sunshine 
and  flowers,  —  to  that  far-off  country  where 
her  brother  walked  behind  the  plough  in  the 
long  black,  steaming  furrows. 


154      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Herr  van  Meeren  sat  later  than  usual  that 
evening  at  his  desk  in  the  inner  office,  a 
small,  plainly  furnished  room  with  smooth, 
pasteboard-covered,  painted  walls  above  a  low 
wainscoting.  On  the  wall  hung  a  large  map 
of  Europe,  a  few  ship-models,  and  a  water- 
colour  of  his  finest  ship,  "  Berent  van  Meeren," 
with  all  sails  set,  cleaving  a  very  blue  sea 
with  very  accurate  waves  following  one 
another  in  military  order. 

Herr  van  Meeren  had  dismissed  all  his 
clerks,  and  as  Mr.  Olsen,  his  cashier,  —  the 
old,  faithful  servant  who  had  been  with  him 
so  long,  and  also  with  his  father  in  his  last 
years  of  business,  —  walked  towards  the  door, 
a  rush  of  emotion  overcame  Herr  van  Meeren 
—  the  next  day  would  throw  this  old,  faithful 
servant,  too,  out  of  work.  It  was  fearful  to 
think  of  the  consequences  to  so  many  homes 
when  it  came  to  be  known  that  Herman  van 
Meeren  was  bankrupt. 

He  extinguished  all  the  lights,  save  the 
one  above  the  desk.  His  private  office  was 
behind  the  other  larger  one,  having  double 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      155 

doors  between  them.  It  was  some  distance 
back  from  the  street,  with  two  small-paned 
windows  looking  out  upon  a  large  cobble- 
stoned  yard. 

Herr  van  Meeren  put  his  elbows  on  the 
desk  and  rested  his  head  in  his  hands,  search- 
ing every  corner  of  his  resources  to  find  hope. 
Before  him  lay  the  notification  of  that  large 
promissory  note  which  had  to  be  paid  the 
next  morning.  He  could  not  borrow  the 
money  for  it  any  longer  and  be  honest. 
What  would  be  the  use,  anyhow  ?  After  that 
one  came  other  notes.  It  was  yet  a  long 
time  before  spring,  when  all  expected  better 
times.  The  harbour  lay  full  of  empty  ships; 
one  could  almost  walk  from  deck  to  deck. 

A  large  French  steamer,  with  a  cargo  of 
fish-spawn  for  the  sardine  fisheries,  when 
only  a  day  out  from  the  harbour  had  run 
ashore  in  the  dense  snow-mist  and  was  lost. 

It  was  hoped  that  would  raise  the  prices 
on  fish-spawns ;  they  were  ruinously  low. 

Herr  van  Meeren  found  himself  lost  in  a 
whirl  of  disconnected  thought;  in  vain  he 


156      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

looked  for  a  way  out.  There  was  no  one  to 
whom  he  could  go  with  his  troubles,  not 
even  to  his  own  wife  —  oh,  no !  For  the  past 
was  not  forgotten. 

He  put  on  his  overcoat  and  hat.  He  bent 
down  for  his  cane,  which  had  fallen ;  and 
slowly  walking  through  the  darkness  of  the 
outer  office,  he  came  near  forgetting  to  ex- 
tinguish the  lamp. 

The  wind  pressed  against  the  door  as  he 
opened  and  shut  it  again.  It  was  dark  and 
cheerless  in  the  deserted  street. 

The  sign  over  the  small  tinshop  kept  up  a 
busy  clatter  in  the  wind.  The  street-lanterns 
looked  dim  in  the  snow  mist. 

Herr  van  Meeren  took  a  short  cut  through 
the  narrow  back  streets  and  alleys  towards 
the  city  entrance. 

He  would  take  his  walk,  though  of  course 
not  so  far  as  usual.  He  felt  a  desire  to  go 
out  on  the  highways,  where  he  could  be  alone 
with  his  thoughts.  The  storm  did  not 
trouble  him. 

He   had   banished   many  dark    thoughts 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      157 

among  the  high  mountains.  When  a  little 
boy,  he  used  to  climb  them  in  spring  to  find 
the  first  primroses  and  anemones ;  in  summer 
he  went  thither  for  berries  and  alpine  flowers. 

To-night  there  was  a  terrible  pressure  on 
his  brain,  his  limbs  felt  sore  and  tired.  Still 
he  hurried  on  with  an  involuntary  desire  to 
get  out  to  the  fresh  air  among  the  hills. 

Anders,  the  cobbler,  in  the  narrow  alley 
back  of  the  hospital  for  the  lepers,  was  busy 
at  his  work.  Herr  van  Meeren  stopped  to 
watch  him  through  the  small  window.  He 
was  sitting  by  his  stool  with  a  small,  smoking 
lamp,  and  his  coarse,  ugly  wife  sat  by,  watch- 
ing him. 

They  were  evidently  discussing  some  im- 
portant question. 

Anders  the  cobbler  was  happy,  at  least  he 
always  looked  so ;  those  small  black  eyes  of 
his  above  or  below  the  large  spectacles 
seemed  always  ready  to  enjoy  a  joke. 

"  Happy  Anders,"  thought  Herr  van 
Meeren,  and  walked  on. 

But  how  about  himself? 


158      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

After  his  walk  he  would  return  to  a  home 
no  longer  his  own  —  that  old  home  of  his 
forefathers,  it  did  not  belong  to  him  any  more. 
Soon  it  would  be  sold  under  the  hammer, 
and  others  would  inhabit  it,  —  the  old 
home  where  he  had  been  born  and  where  he 
had  spent  his  happy  childhood  and  youth, 
where  he  had  planted  so  many  trees,  —  trees 
which  had  grown  large,  which  he  loved  to 
look  at,  reminding  him,  as  they  did,  of  the 
days  of  his  sorrow-free  youth.  There  would 
sound  strange  voices  from  behind  the  high 
garden  walls,  happy  laughter  when  he  passed 
outside,  poor  and  pitied.  That  was  the 
worst  of  all.  And  all  those  men  who  had 
looked  up  to  him,  who  had  taken  their  hats  off 
for  him,  who  had  been  dependent  on  him,  who 
had  trusted  him  with  important  public  offices  ! 

What  would  become  of  him  now?  A 
beggar  supported  by  his  relatives,  a  burden 
to  those  who  used  to  be  below  him  in  public 
estimation  and  power. 

Oh,  if  he  could  go  somewhere  with  it  all ! 
If  only  she  loved  him  !  She  never  had,  and 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      159 

now  all  this  would  be  one  more  reason  for 
her  to  blame  him. 

Herr  van  Meeren  stopped  short,  when  he 
reached  the  arch  at  the  city  entrance. 

Ah,  what  was  the  use ! 

He  hurried  though  the  arch.  A  few  hun- 
dred steps  farther  he  passed  under  the  por- 
tal, climbed  the  back  stairs  on  tiptoe  and 
entered  his  room.  Without  lighting  the 
candle,  he  went  straight  to  the  chest  of 
drawers,  and  took  out  something  which  he 
put  into  the  outside  pocket  of  his  overcoat. 

Silently  as  he  had  entered,  he  stole  out 
again,  following  the  king's  highway,  in  haste. 

He  was  convinced  that  no  one  cared  for 
him,  not  even  Helga.  Had  she  not  said,  "  I 
am  ashamed  of  my  father  "  ? 

Ashamed ! 

Then  that  child  of  his  on  the  street, 
beyond  redemption  ! 

On  the  old  road  across  the  hills,  sheltered 
between  high  stone  walls,  the  snow  was  deep 
on  both  sides  of  the  narrow  trail. 


l6o      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

A  little  farther  on,  under  the  rowan-trees, 
she  had  said  it,  "  I  am  ashamed,  ashamed  of 
my  father !  "  and,  "  Your  hands  are  stained 
with  the  heart-blood  of  your  own  child." 

The  poor  little  girl,  she  did  not  under- 
stand him.  "  Ah,  God,"  he  prayed,  "  keep 
her  in  Thy  protection,  that  the  world  of  strife, 
where  the  strong  trample  over  the  weak,  may 
not  handle  her  too  roughly." 

The  place  was  easily  found,  even  in  the 
darkness,  —  the  rowan-trees,  the  bend  in  the 
stone  walls,  the  steep  hill  ahead.  He  would 
not  climb  the  hill,  —  oh,  no,  he  wanted  rest. 

He  leaned  against  the  wall. 

There  was  a  dull  report,  audible  but  a 
short  distance  through  the  snow-thick  air. 

Herr  van  Meeren  sank  on  his  knees,  his 
body  swayed  back  and  forth  a  few  times,  and 
he  fell  on  his  face  into  the  deep,  soft  snow. 

The  wind  sang  in  the  trees  on  the  hill-tops ; 
but  down  between  the  high  stone-fences  under 
the  old  rowan-trees  all  was  very  quiet. 

And  the  snow  fell  heavier  and  heavier, 
listlessly  covering  up  everything. 


XIII 

IT  was  spring-time  in  California. 
Red,  downy  leaves  brightened  the 
long  branches  and  slender  twigs  of  the  wild 
grapevines  along  the  booming  creeks. 
Orioles  sang  in  the  tops  of  the  large  oaks. 
Orchards  were  delicately  abloom  in  pink  and 
white.  Humming-birds  buzzed  from  flower 
to  flower,  and  the  hills  were  tapestried  with 
many-coloured  blossoms  and  grasses. 

The  blue  of  the  sky  was  deep,  deep,  the 
blue  of  the  summer-lands,  and  dotted  with 
fleecy  clouds. 

Soil  and  air  were  moist,  life-giving ;  insects 
busy,  and  birds  in  love. 

Lyder  van  Meeren  worked  from  morning 
till  night,  following  the  plough  between  long 
rows  of  blooming  fruit-trees. 

In  his  thoughts  he  saw  a  distant  land 
where  yet  the  snow  was  covering  the  ground. 

He  saw  the  gray  sky,  the  bleak  country,  the 

ii 


1 62      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

cold  winter  sea;  and  the  same  overpowering 
sadness  came  upon  him  as  when  the  autumn 
before  he  had  watched  the  last  naked  skerry 
sink  below  the  horizon. 

He  liked  this  work  just  because  he  could 
think  while  at  it,  —  send  his  thoughts  wher- 
ever he  pleased. 

If  he  was  tired  when  evening  came,  rest 
was  so  much  the  pleasanter. 

But  he  often  felt  lonely,  and  in  his  loneli- 
ness it  was  a  question  with  him  if  to  yearn 
was  happiness  or  pain. 

Against  the  background  of  the  past  stood 
the  clear-cut  figure  of  a  slender  girl.  She 
stood  by  the  footlights  of  his  scene  of  life  in 
her  plain  black  dress  and  white  kerchief,  and 
a  great  fear  —  was  it  conscience  ?  —  at  times 
overpowered  him. 

He  was  seemingly  no  nearer  a  home  of  his 
own  than  formerly.  Any  day  might  bring 
the  news  that  his  father  was  bankrupt.  The 
few  dollars  he  earned  by  his  hands,  —  what 
did  they  amount  to  for  a  man  with  tastes  and 
inclinations  like  his  ? 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      163 

He  associated  very  little  with  the  people 
about  him.  The  friend  he  thought  he  had 
found  proved  a  disappointment,  for  that  man 
also  loved  money  more  than  friendship. 

On  Sundays  Lyder  went  out  alone  among 
the  hills,  dreaming,  longing,  almost  to  the 
verge  of  despair;  indeed,  he  sometimes 
passed  that  verge,  and  with  folded  hands  and 
uplifted  eyes  would  gaze  into  the  deep  sky, 
begging  for  aid  from  an  Almighty  Being 
living  up  there  somewhere. 

And  for  what  did  he  want  aid  ? 

To  obtain  a  home  of  his  own. 

Not  a  very  unreasonable  desire  for  a 
working-man.  Only  a  small  piece  of  land 
where  he  might  work  for  himself  and  call 
to  his  side  a  woman  whom  he  should  love 
and  who  would  love  him. 

She  must  be  tender,  he  thought,  with 
a  mind  to  which  his  could  open  freely,  a 
woman  to  whom  he  could  go  safely  with 
everything,  —  his  most  secret  thoughts. 

Was  Guri  Hakonsdatter  such  a  one  ? 

He  hardly  dared  answer  this  question  to 


164     UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

himself.  How  dared  he  then  write  to  her 
and  make  her  promises? 

Yet  at  times  he  longed  so  desperately  for 
her  that  all  doubts  were  banished. 

His  father's  earnest  face  stood  ever  clearly 
before  him ;  its  varying  expressions  were  so 
clear  in  his  mind  they  almost  made  him 
shudder. 

Indeed,  he  knew  his  father  loved  him,  and 
that  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  himself 
loved  his  father.  He  could  not  understand 
why  they  should  not  have  understood  each 
other,  —  they  were  so  very  much  alike. 

Then  he  had  great  plans  for  the  future. 

When  his  father  should  become  compelled 
to  shut  the  doors  of  his  business  house,  the 
whole  family  should  come  out  to  Lyder.  He 
felt  that  he  could  take  care  of  them  all,  yes, 
even  he,  who  so  often  gave  up  all  hope  of 
helping  himself. 

The  reaction  was  sure  to  follow,  and  when 
it  came  everything  looked  hopeless  and  fore- 
boding. Then  it  was  he  longed  most  des- 
perately for  Guri,  for  her  veiled  eyes,  for  her 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY      165 

voice,  for  her  caresses.  Then  the  nights 
seemed  endless,  when  he  tossed  himself  in 
his  bed,  sleepless  after  a  day's  hard  work. 

Towards  morning  he  would  cry  himself  to 
sleep,  closely  pressing  his  pillow  like  a  child 
hiding  its  face  in  its  mother's  lap. 

The  next  day  he  would  throw  himself  with 
all  his  combined  will-power  into  the  work. 
He  did  the  work  of  two,  and,  when  evening 
came,  he  was  very  tired.  The  night  brought 
him  unbroken  rest,  and  in  the  morning  he 
would  awake  as  bright  as  the  cloudless  Cali- 
fornian  summer  sky. 


XIV 

IT  was  a  warm  day. 
The  petals  of  the  fruit-blossoms  were 
slowly  dropping. 

The  sky  had  already  become  dulled  by 
smoke  from  a  mountain  fire. 

Lyder  threw  himself  on  his  bed  to  rest  for 
a  few  minutes  after  dinner. 

He  folded  his  arms  above  his  head;  his 
face  was  sunburned  and  unshaven ;  his  blond 
curly  hair  had  grown  too  long  and  looked 
unkempt. 

Falling  into  a  nervous  slumber,  he 
dreamed  he  saw  his  father  stand  by  his  bed, 
speaking  to  him  in  his  earnest  way,  telling 
him  that  the  next  day  everybody  would  know 
Herman  van  Meeren  was  bankrupt. 

The  old  man  looked  sad  and  tired ;  his 
eyes  seemed  bewildered,  looking  about  as  if 
in  fear  of  some  one.  He  laid  his  hand  on 
Lyder's  forehead,  —  that  narrow  hand  with 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      167 

the  long  thin  fingers  and  the  heavy,  plain 
gold  ring.  "  Good-bye,  Lyder,  good-bye,  my 
dear  boy,  good-bye,"  he  said,  so  lovingly,  so 
sadly ;  then  he  faded  away. 

Lyder  awoke.  The  sun  was  shining  into 
his  face.  He  felt  dazed,  his  mouth  was  dry, 
the  blood  beat  in  his  temples ;  he  hurried  off 
to  his  work,  thinking  anxiously  about  the 
dream. 

A  few  weeks  after  he  received  a  letter 
from  Helga. 

The  writing  became  blurred.  The  letters 
began  to  dance  before  he  could  finish  read- 
ing it.  A  dull  pain  ran  through  Lyder's 
head ;  he  breathed  heavily. 

"  My  father,  my  poor  father !  "  he 
stammered. 

He  hid  his  face  in  his  arms ;  leaning 
against  the  rough  wall  of  his  little  room,  he 
wept  such  tears  as  he  had  never  shed. 

Night  was  slowly  stealing  over  the  land. 
The  distant  quak-quak  of  the  frogs  along 
the  creek  mingled  harmoniously  with  the 
chirp  of  the  grasshoppers.  The  soft  breeze 


1 68      UNTO  THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

from  the  sea,  laden  with  the  spicy  fragrance 
of  the  Californian  summer  bloom,  came 
through  the  open  door,  as  if  taking  pity  on 
the  young  man  standing  there,  lost  in  his 
sorrow. 

The  stars  glimmered  through  the  crowns 
of  the  long-needled  pines,  where  the  soft 
winds  kept  up  their  everlasting  faint  hum, 
the  lullaby  of  nature. 

Lyder  threw  himself  on  his  bed  without 
undressing. 

What  thoughts,  what  recollections  that 
came  and  went,  what  desperate  longing, 
what  repentance,  he  experienced  on  that 
summer-night ! 

The  long,  long  summer-night  of  the  south 
lulled  him  at  last  to  sleep  with  its  dizzy 
whispers,  while  the  large  moths  were  busily 
fluttering  low  among  the  flowers,  and  the 
ground-spiders  drew  their  long  glittering 
threads  across  the  roads  and  lawns. 


XV 

THE  tidings  of  Herman  van  Meeren's 
suicide  spread  like  wildfire  over  the 
old  city  of  Bergen.  Many  were  the  fancied 
reasons  for  the  deed. 

After  the  books  of  the  house  were  exam- 
ined, there  was  no  doubt  but  that  the  assets 
would  cover  all  debts  ;  but  that  was  all. 

Fru  van  Meeren  was  very  dramatic  in  her 
sorrow.  She  fell  into  hysterics  by  her  hus- 
band's grave,  but  in  time  settled  back  to 
life,  taking  it  as  it  was,  sharing  the  home  of 
a  widowed  brother  in  Christiania,  —  a  man  in 
high  position,  one  of  the  king's  most  trusted 
men. 

Helga  shed  few  tears.  Something  very 
earnest  had  come  into  her  features.  Her 
voice  was  fuller,  more  sonorous.  The  ex- 
pression of  her  eyes  became  at  times  examin- 
ing, penetratingly  so.  The  old  look  of 
warmth  and  affection  had  become  deeper 


I7O      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

through  an  added  expression  of  one  who  has 
suffered.  Grave  and  resolute,  she  stepped 
out  into  her  new  surroundings  to  battle  un- 
der social  laws.  She  accepted  a  position  in 
the  editorial  sanctum  of  Hans  Gram. 

It  was  at  small  pay ;  for  newspapers, 
especially  liberal  ones,  which  are  not  backed 
by  interested  capitalists,  are  not  a  source  of 
great  riches  in  Norway. 

But  she  received  enough  for  her  needs ; 
and  her  position  threw  her  into  association 
with  men  and  women  of  liberal  minds,  who 
sympathised  with  the  lower  classes  of  hu- 
manity. Helga  began  to  see  plainly  the 
wrongs  which  were  daily  perpetrated  against 
them,  under  the  protection  of  social  laws ; 
and  she  meant  in  the  future  to  have  some- 
thing to  say  on  the  subject,  to  throw  herself 
with  her  whole  soul  into  that  battle  for 
liberty  fought  by  the  masses. 

The  past  with  its  fairy-castles  in  the  old 
park  inside  the  high  garden-walls  and  haw- 
thorn hedges,  seemed  a  dream  of  long  ago ; 
in  fact,  she  did  not  understand  how  it  ever 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

could  have  had  such  attractions  for  her. 
Her  energies  had  been  slumbering,  lulled  to 
sleep  by  carelessness,  while  outside  roared 
the  battle. 

She  wished  to  help  clear  up  all  that 
sediment  of  greed  and  selfishness,  at  the 
same  time  knowing  well  how  great  was  the 
task,  how  slow  the  evolution  of  society,  and 
how  little,  how  insignificantly  little,  she 
herself  was. 

"  But  there  are  many  of  us,"  she  said, 
"  many,  and  each  day  we  are  getting  more 
numerous." 

She  became  an  enthusiast  in  her  work. 
People  of  the  old  school  spoke  of  her  as 
"  that  emancipated  Miss  van  Meeren."  The 
climax  was  reached  when  she  cut  her  hair 
short. 

"  I  only  wanted  to  relieve  myself  of  that 
headache  occasioned  by  my  indoor  work," 
said  Helga,  smiling  to  Petra,  who  told  her 
what  people  said.  "  The  doctor  advised  me 
to  do  it  —  indeed  it  hurt  me  to  sacrifice  it  — 
'  ut  let  them  say  what  they  please." 


172      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

That  sister  of  hers  on  the  street  had 
found  her  last  resting-place  in  the  potter's 
field. 

She  had  been  one  of  the  numberless  simi- 
lar sores  festering  in  the  unhealthy  body  of 
Christian  society.  She  had  sold  herself  and 
made  a  living  by  it,  while  honest  working- 
men  starved  in  the  hard  times.  But  so  it 
happens  in  civilised  society. 


XVI 

THERE  was  a  great  jubilee  among  the 
religious  people  of  the  old  city  of 
Bergen. 

Love-feasts  and  prayer-meetings  were  the 
order  of  the  day. 

An  industrious  missionary  had  brought 
home  from  Zululand  a  real  Hottentot, — 
an  ugly  thick-lipped  fellow,  who  in  broken 
Norwegian  spoke  of  the  great  glory  and 
love  of  the  Christian  God,  who  had  sent 
the  Saviour  for  the  poor  black  people  as 
well  as  the  white.  Moses,  as  he  had  been 
baptised,  was  no  fool.  He  enjoyecl  all  this 
feasting;  he  enjoyed  being  driven  around 
with  the  missionary  in  the  bishop's  carnage, 
that  he  might  be  interviewed  by  the  great 
and  leading  people  of  Christian  endeavour. 

Moses  proved  a  most  excellent  advertise- 
ment. 


174      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

Poor  widows,  hysterical  old  maids,  ig- 
norant servants,  small-minded  emotional 
tradespeople,  and  a  few  hypocrites  adored 
this  black  brother,  and  contributed  to  the 
missionary  fund  according  to  their  means ; 
yes,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  some  of  the  first 
mentioned  starved  themselves  to  give  to  it. 

And  the  money-bag  of  the  missionary 
society  became  swelled  like  a  plutocrat's 
stomach. 

Stockings  were  knitted  and  shirts  made 
by  kind-hearted  women  for  the  black  con- 
verts in  Africa,  that  they  might  look  decent 
in  their  native  kraals ;  and  from  the  pulpits 
of  the  large  churches  sounded  forth  eloquent 
petitions  for  the  dark  brethren. 

Then  there  came  an  unexpected  "  cooler  " 
from  "The  Liberal  Press."  Helga  had 
made  her  maiden  effort.  In  a  quietly 
written  article  she  asked  if  it  were  not  better 
to  sweep  first  before  one's  own  door,  then 
before  that  of  others ;  if  there  were  not 
heathenism,  darkness,  and  nakedness  enough 
right  there  at  home,  and  need  of  money  and 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      175 

food  to  satisfy  the  starving,  both  bodily  and 
mentally,  without  sending  clothes  and  the 
means  gathered  from  the  innocent  and  poor 
to  the  Kaffirs,  who,  living  in  a  southern  land 
of  eternal  summer,  were  in  little  need  of 
clothing;  who  were  happy  in  their  kraals 
and  hunting-grounds,  who  seemed  to  take 
more  willingly  to  the  fire-water  of  civilised 
nations  than  to  their  religions. 

"  Look  you,  you  Christian  people,  and 
behold  the  pallid  men,  the  sorrowing,  over- 
worked mothers,  the  scantily  clad,  hungry 
children  right  outside  your  doors,  who,  if  the 
eye  of  the  police  were  not  so  watchful  to 
maintain  law  and  order,  would  be  begging  in 
the  streets. 

"  Good  people,  instead  of  constantly  rais- 
ing your  hands  in  prayer  for  the  poor,  where 
you  yourselves  are  the  ones  to  act,  banish 
your  selfishness,  your  antiquated  ideas,  and 
join  in  the  struggle  for  more  equality,  for 
better  social  laws,  —  for  the  victory  of  that 
love  which  proclaims  that  men  are  brothers, 
and  that  in  a  father's  house  not  one  child 


176      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

shall  live  in  thoughtless  superfluity,  while 
the  other  children  bear  the  burdens  of  the 
day  and  starve." 

Then  —  to  the  consternation  of  the  good, 
innocent  people  —  bad  rumours  became  loud 
about  Moses.  He  had  begun  a  life  of 
amours  in  the  "  dead-falls  "  of  Christian  so- 
ciety; he  was  reported  to  be  spending  his 
pocket-money  in  an  ill  way,  and  the  sharp 
tongues  of  the  city  wagged  wittily  about 
Moses. 

"  Hush,  hush  !  "  said  the  missionaries,  and 
packed  Moses  back  to  Africa,  where  he  hast- 
ened to  surround  himself  with  many  wives. 

But  from  conservative  organs  rose  a  mighty 
cry  against  "  The  Liberal  Press."  "  Hoved- 
stadens  Avis  "  led  them  all.  One  most  rev- 
erend gentleman  after  the  other  rose  in  the 
full  wrath  of  his  Christian  indignation,  and 
with  eloquence  and  scriptural  quotations 
swung  the  flaming  sword  of  salaried  Chris- 
tianity against  the  rising  atheism  of  the  time, 
against  all  this  godlessness  in  "  The  Liberal 
Press." 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY       177 

They  spoke  with  righteous  hatred  against 
these  radicals  who  through  flighty  talk  and 
criminal  literature  spread  dissatisfaction 
and  infidelity  among  the  lower  classes, — 
dissatisfaction  with  their  lot  in  life,  and 
hatred  for  those  whom  an  all-wise  God  had 
chosen  for  the  more  plentiful  gifts  of  the  de- 
sirable things  in  life. 

They  gave  scriptural  proofs  that  such  in- 
stigators had  existed  since  the  dawn  of  his- 
tory, though  their  strength,  and  the  venom 
of  their  ungodly  attacks,  were  never  more 
active  than  at  the  present  day,  when  they 
made  use  of  the  hard  times,  oppressing  all 
civilised  nations  of  earth,  to  attack  the  only 
true  church  of  God,  and  its  ordained  servants 
on  earth. 

"  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them." 

The  reverend  gentlemen  met,  shook  their 
heads,  spoke  in  low  voices  among  themselves, 
condemning  "  The  Liberal  Press,"  its  editor, 
its  whole  staff ;  they  dragged  into  light  per- 
sonal rumours,  and  the  sinful  failings,  in  the 
past  and  present,  of  these  men. 


12 


178      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

But  on  a  cold,  gray  evening,  in  a  wood- 
shed behind  a  large  city  mansion,  seated  on 
the  hard  floor,  was  a  pale  girl. 

She  had  dragged  herself  into  the  darkest 
corner  behind  the  corded  wood. 

The  small,  four-paned  window  at  the  end 
gazed  at  her  like  a  cold,  inquisitive  gray  eye. 

It  was  only  by  the  utmost  exertion  of  will 
that  this  poor,  lonely  lass  kept  back  the  cries 
of  pain  which  threatened  to  escape  her. 

She  had  forgotten  everything — her  re- 
sponsibilities, yes,  even  her  own  mother  and 
the  far-off  islands  of  her  childhood's  home. 
She  had  forgotten  the  kind  old  vicar  who 
prayed  with  her  so  long  ago.  There  was 
only  one  desire  left  in  her,  —  to  hide,  hide 
from  everything  in  the  world,  from  the 
merciless  gaze  of  civilised  society. 

Like  the  thief  in  the  night,  like  the  blood- 
stained murderer,  she  desired  nothing  more 
than  to  cover  up  her  tracks,  —  to  hide,  hide 
from  that  terrible  monster  there  outside  that 
small  window  with  its  cold  gray  light. 

And  this  young  girl  —  what  was  her  crime? 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      179 

She  had  loved. 

Loved? 

Yes,  but  without  the  consecration  of  the 
servant  of  the  Lord.  She  had  not  asked  his 
reverence  nor  his  dignitary  if  she  might ; 
she  had  merely  loved. 

That  disposition  which,  according  to  the 
belief  of  Christian  society,  the  Almighty  God 
had  created  in  her — to  love — had  been  made 
stronger  than  her  power  of  will  to  obey  social 
laws. 

She  was  a  fallen  woman,  as  it  is  generally 
called.  She  had  been  too  natural. 

She  crept  as  far  into  the  darkness  as  she 
could,  her  soul  filled  with  terrible  fear,  a 
ceaseless  anguish. 

She  listened  for  footsteps,  she  fought  back 
the  pains  which  surged  through  her. 

And  with  all,  how  did  she  not  long  for  him 
to  whom  she  had  given  herself  in  love !  Oh, 
but  he  was  so  very  far  away ! 

She  stretched  herself  full  length  upon  the 
floor.  It  gradually  grew  dark  where  she  lay ; 
only  that  gray  eye  in  the  wall  remained, 


l8o      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

perhaps  a  little  sleepier,  but  constantly 
watching  her. 

Tears  of  pain  and  of  despair,  of  utter  lone- 
liness, trickled  down  her  cheeks. 

There  came  a  short  relief. 

That  girl  had  become  a  mother.  To  her 
nature  had  given  a  child.  It  cried  when  it 
was  born ;  and  its  mother,  insane  with  terror 
of  the  prying  eyes  and  ears  of  her  fellow- 
beings,  strangled,  with  her  own  hands,  that 
little  babe. 

Dark  ? 

Can  you  fathom  the  darkness  in  a  mother's 
mind  who  kills  her  own  babe  ? 

The  gray  eye  in  the  wall  looked  at  her ; 
it  seemed  to  grow  larger,  larger,  to  come 
nearer,  nearer.  It  glared  so  terribly,  so  in- 
quisitively ;  it  searched  for  her  baby,  it  fell 
over  her,  trampled  on  her,  sending  cutting 
pains  through  her  body,  —  yes,  away  into 
her  very  soul. 

"Ah— oh  me!"  A  great  lull  followed. 
Where  ?  Where  was  her  child  ?  She  groped 
for  it  in  the  dark. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      l8l 

Finding  it,  she  pressed  it  to  her  bosom ; 
this  was  his  baby,. —  HIS. 

She  sc:w  him  plainly  before  her,  she  em- 
braced him  in  the  shape  of  her  murdered 
child,  —  him,  for  whose  sake  she  had  killed 
it. 

Rest,  oh,  such  rest !  She  felt  it  come ;  a 
benumbed  sensation  crept  over  her  limbs ; 
that  rest  became  deeper  and  deeper,  more 
and  more  senseless,  —  such  a  perfect  rest 
without  the  least  effort.  There  were  flitting 
dreams  of  long  ago,  of  him. 

Her  life  was  slowly  ebbing  away.  A 
sudden  quiver  —  one  spasmodic  struggle 
slowly  passing,  and  she  settled  into  the  arms 
of  the  angel  of  death,  who,  never  looking 
back,  gladly  carried  her  away  from  life. 


XVII 

IT  was  a  summer  evening. 
Lyder  van   Meeren  was  driving  home 
from  the   railroad  station,  at  the  mouth  of 
a  tunnel  penetrating  the  heart  of  a  forest- 
covered  mountain. 

It  was  a  little  out-of-the-way  station,  with 
a  signal-box  and  a  small  building  contain- 
ing a  waiting-room  and  the  station-master's 
office. 

Across  a  rocky  ravine  stood  a  few  white- 
washed dwellings,  a  store,  a  saloon,  and 
some  rough-looking  outbuildings  and  ware- 
houses. 

Several  years  had  gone  by  since  that 
summer  evening  when  Helga's  letter  brought 
Lyder  the  tidings  of  his  father's  bankruptcy 
and  suicide.  The  wound  which  it  had  cut 
in  his  mind  had  gradually  healed;  but  the 
sore  was  still  there. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      183 

Many  an  evening,  when  tired,  had  he  lain 
down  in  his  little  room,  not  able  to  sleep, 
blaming  himself,  again  blaming  his  father, 
then  society,  which  seemed  to  have  com- 
bined against  him. 

Lonely,  he  yearned  for  sympathy,  for  a 
single  soul  to  whom  he  could  go  when  the 
world  seemed  all  darkness. 

He  was  economical  with  the  money  he 
earned,  but  there  came  months  without  work. 
The  small  towns  were  full  of  idle  men  hang- 
ing about,  eating  and  drinking  up  what  they 
had  earned  in  the  busy  time;  and  Lyder 
was  among  them. 

Formerly  he  looked  with  disdain  upon  the 
working  people,  condemning  their  ignorance 
and  lack  of  interest  in  everything  but  the 
satisfying  of  physical  wants.  Now  he  under- 
stood them.  The  labourer  was  a  beast  of 
burden  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  and 
when  without  work  his  mind  was  filled  with 
anxieties. 

Oh,  if  he  only  could  get  a  home  of  his 
own  !  It  had  become  almost  a  byword  with 


184     UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

him ;  he  would  murmur  it  often  in  a  half- 
conscious  way  when  languid,  or  tired  of  a 
struggle  with  so  poor  a  result. 

But  how  should  he  ever  be  able  to  obtain 
this  much  coveted  happiness  ? 

He  had  read  somewhere  that  one's  first 
duty  was  to  be  happy. 

Easy  to  say,  he  thought.  Of  course,  there 
were  happy  people  in  the  world,  a  great 
many  perhaps,  but  so  many  more  who  were 
not,  at  least  not  as  happy  as  they  ought 
to  be. 

And  here  were  immense  tracts  of  farming- 
land,  thousands  of  acres,  whose  rich  proprie- 
tors never  had  done  a  day's  hard  work  in 
their  lives.  A  hundredth  part  of  one  of 
these  tracts  would  make  a  prosperous, 
happy  home,  perhaps,  for  some  one.  As 
it  was,  the  ground  lay  but  half  cultivated, 
while  homeless  men  went  walking  in  the 
dust  outside  the  barbed  fences,  casting 
yearning  looks  over  the  wide  stretches  of 
fertile  soil  held  by  rich  men  for  speculative 
purposes. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      185 

Lyder  thought  with  dread  of  a  life  spent  as 
he  was  spending  it  now,  —  the  slave  of  others 
more  favourably  situated  than  he. 

Was  he  going  to  be  like  one  of  these  gray- 
haired  men  he  met  on  the  dusty  road  with 
their  rolls  of  blankets  on  their  backs,  tramp- 
ing from  place  to  place,  with  vacancy  staring 
from  their  colourless  eyes,  where  thoughts 
seemed  extinguished,  and  in  their  stead 
glared  an  almost  insane  expression  of  yearn- 
ing, —  constant  hopeless  yearning,  steadily 
degrading,  —  all  noble  feelings  deadened 
simply  to  keep  the  body  alive  ? 

"  Much  better  be  dead,"  he  ejaculated, 
"much  better  die  at  once!" 

And  the  more  he  saw  of  the  life  which 
surrounded  him,  the  more  did  he  understand 
its  barbarism. 

Here  was  a  land  with  broad  valleys  whose 
fertility  could  not  be  surpassed,  glittering 
rivers,  and  safe  harbours;  a  southern  land 
under  a  warm  blue  sky,  where  the  tenderest 
fruits  ripened  in  abundance,  where  the 
golden  fields  waved  in  the  endless  summer 


1 86      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

sunshine,  and  yet  all  this  crying  need,  these 
thousands  of  homeless  people  begging 
for  work,  these  thousands  of  homes  where 
men  were  struggling  enslaved  by  the  ruler  of 
the  land,  —  money;  the  serfs  of  the  favoured 
few,  the  priests  in  this  golden  temple  where 
there  are  many  gods,  but  not  those  of  love 
and  mercy. 

Is  this  the  great  land  to  which  I  have 
come,  where  stands  the  cradle  of  liberty, — 
the  land  towards  which  the  oppressed  of  the 
world  look  and  stretch  their  arms  in  suppli- 
cation, where  they  hope  for  deliverance,  —  a 
land  where  men  are  brothers  ? 

"  Surely  it  is  a  sham,  a  sham,"  he  sighed. 

Tired  at  last  with  waiting,  Lyder  one  day 
wrote  to  his  aunt  in  Bergen,  telling  her  how 
everything  stood,  and  how  he  longed  to  own 
a  small  place,  asking  if  she  would  not  lend 
him  some  money,  or,  better,  give  it  him, 
since  he  could  not  promise  ever  to  pay  it 
back. 

Having  mailed  his  letter,  he  went  out,  and 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      1 87 

he  hunted  among  the  mountains  for  a  suit- 
able place  to  buy. 

Two  months  later  Lyder  was  the  happiest 
man  in  the  land.  He  held  in  his  hand 
money  enough  to  purchase  a  home  of  his 
own  ! 

That  was  the  way  he  came  to  be  with  his 
team  at  the  little  station  in  the  heart  of  the 
red-woods  that  summer  day. 

And  Lyder  sang  in  the  woods  as  he 
slowly  wound  his  way  out  of  the  deep 
canon. 

No  wonder  he  was  singing. 

Away  yonder  on  the  mountains  lay  his 
home.  A  small  cleared  spot  was  plainly 
visible  among  the  brushwoods,  above  the 
trees. 

The  solemnity  of  the  deep  red-wood 
forest ;  the  shaded  road  where  it  was  so  cool 
on  that  warm  day ;  the  deep,  blue  canons ; 
the  distant  faint  humming  of  the  wind  in  the 
tree-tops ;  the  leafy  greenness  of  the  syca- 
mores and  oaks  ;  the  aroma  of  the  woods,  — 
all  this  combined  to  make  him  blissful.  No 


1 88      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

wonder  he  sang.  His  song  was  a  pot-pourri 
of  melodies  from  distant  countries  and 
ancient  days,  —  old  Norse  and  German  folk- 
songs entwined  with  ribbons  of  his  own  melo- 
dious thoughts. 

His  horses  were  taking  their  own  time. 
They  moved  along  with  drooping  ears,  too 
lazy  even  to  switch  away  the  large  horseflies 
thirsty  for  their  blood ;  perhaps  the  good 
beasts  also  were  lost  in  reveries  of  greener 
pastures  in  a  sorrow-free  youth,  before  they 
were  bridled  by  man. 

And  the  echo  of  his  voice  from  the  wood- 
land told  him  that  Nature  was  listening  to 
his  songs.  The  hum  and  murmur  and  soft 
whisper  from  the  canons  told  him  how 
beautifully  she  also  could  sing ;  and  he  list- 
ened to  that  music  which  experience  had 
taught  him  yields  itself  so  willingly  accord- 
ing to  the  state  of  the  human  mind,  —  which 
is  grave  and  sombre  if  such  be  your  mind ; 
rippling,  animated,  if  so  you  desire;  gay, 
happy,  thoughtless,  if  you  are  young  and 
sorrow-free;  dreamy  if  you  are  in  love; 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      189 

deep,  caressing,  hushed  with  deepest  emo- 
tions, if  your  mind  is  earnest,  and  you  have 
been  seeking  the  shades  of  the  forest  to  be 
alone. 

And  Lyder  had  forgotten  everything, 
everything,  save  the  forest  that  was  casting 
over  him  its  mantle  of  rapture. 

So  enraptured  was  he,  indeed,  that  sum- 
mer day,  as  not  to  notice  a  figure  sitting  on 
the  large  gray  rock  by  the  roadside. 

He  was  looking  in  another  direction,  out 
over  the  undulating  forest-covered  hills  sink- 
ing boldly  into  the  deep  canon. 

"  How  d'  ye  do  ?  "  said  a  musical  voice  close 
beside  him. 

Startled,  he  looked  round.  A  young  girl 
with  a  pale,  refined  face  smiled  at  him  from 
under  a  white  lace  mantilla. 

She  had  large,  trustful  velvety  eyes,  and 
leaned  her  head  a  little  to  one  side  when 
she  spoke. 

Lyder  involuntarily  pulled  up  his  horses, 
and  looking  very  foolish,  said  nothing. 

"  Would  you  let  me  ride  with  you  up  to 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Buena  Vista  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  have  walked 
very  far,  and  doubt  whether  I  have  strength 
enough  to  walk  all  the  way  back." 

"  Oh,  certainly."  He  jumped  to  the 
ground  on  the  instant,  but  was  too  confused 
to  assist  her. 

"  Yes,  but  then  you  must  give  me  your 
hand  and  help  me  up,"  she  said,  a  little 
roguishly.  "  Oh  me,  that  was  quite  a 
climb." 

Lyder,  in  his  dirty  working-clothes,  hardly 
knew  whether  he  dared  speak  to  this  refined, 
well-dressed  girl,  but  he  managed  to  steal  a 
shy  glance  at  her.  She  was  beautiful,  he 
thought,  with  her  well-shaped  somewhat 
aquiline  nose,  her  emotional  lips  faintly 
dimpled  in  the  corners,  and  those  large,  dark 
eyes  veiled  by  such  long  lashes. 

Suddenly  she  turned,  and  spoke  in  that 
curiously  tender  way,  with  a  faultless  pronun- 
ciation, such  as  makes  even  the  English 
tongue  musical. 

"  These  red-wood  forests  are  so  lovely  that 
one  forgets  one's  self  and  walks  too  far.  Is 


UNTO -THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

not  your  name  Van  Meeren  ? "  she  added 
somewhat  abruptly. 

"  Yes,  madam ;  but  how  do  you  know 
my  name  ?  "  asked  Lyder,  astonished. 

She  smiled.  "  Why,  very  easily.  They  gave 
me  a  description  of  you  up  at  Buena  Vista. 
They  told  me  you  would  be  returning  from 
the  station,  having  passed  this  morning,  and 
that  I  could  safely  ask  you  for  a  ride  if  I 
became  too  tired.  There  are  not  many  peo- 
ple who  use  glasses  hereabouts,  so  you  were 
not  hard  to  recognise.  But  you  would  n't 
even  help  me  into  your  waggon,"  she  said, 
with  the  playful  ease  of  one  who  has  associ- 
ated much  with  different  classes  of  people. 

Lyder  blushed.  There  was  something 
very  tender  in  her  voice ;  it  made  him  feel 
safe. 

"  How  lovely  she  is,  but  how  very  pale  her 
face,"  he  thought 

"  Do  you  stay  up  at  Buena  Vista  Springs  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  came  there  yesterday  from  Santa 
Cruz.  Is  it  not  delightful  at  Santa  Cruz  ? 


1 92      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

—  that  blue,  rounded  bay  of  Monterey  —  I 
love  it." 

"  Yes,  it  is  beautiful  there."  Lyder  began 
to  feel  at  home  with  this  interesting  stranger. 
"  I  grew  up  by  the  ocean,"  he  continued, 
"  one  not  so  blue  and  warm  as  this,  but  for 
the  most  part  gray  under  a  low-hanging  gray 
sky.  It  is  cold-looking,  but  no  less  grand. 
I  often  long  for  it." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  shall  also  long  for  the 
ocean,"  she  said.  After  a  while,  "  It  can  be 
so  unmerciful  too." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  it  during  a  great 
storm  ? "  he  asked.  He  did  not  feel  the 
least  afraid  of  her  any  more ;  there  was 
nothing  at  all  condescending  about  her. 

"  No,  I  always  wanted  to  go,  but  my 
brother  would  never  allow  me  to.  He  is 
always  so  afraid  I  shall  catch  cold  and  die. 
It  must  be  very  grand." 

"To  die?"  ' 

"  To  die  ?  Oh,  no.  The  ocean  in  a 
storm ;  perhaps,  it  is  grand  to  die,  too." 

They  went  on  silently  for  some  distance. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      193 

The  quails  were  calling  in  the  thickets. 
The  red  evening-light  had  crept  up  from  the 
blue  canons  to  the  very  highest  crests,  then 
it  faded  entirely  away,  leaving  the  canon  still 
bluer  with  the  haze  from  the  forest  fires ; 
only  the  highest  peak  of  Loma  Prieta  glowed 
for  a  while,  when  the  whole  mountain  with 
its  soft  contours  of  brushwoods  changed  into 
a  deep  purplish  blue. 

Lyder  was  conscious  of  a  great  desire  to 
let  this  little  girl  know  that  his  mind  was  not 
as  rough  as  his  clothes,  that  his  tastes  and 
feelings  were  perhaps  as  refined  as  hers ; 
that  his  home,  once  one  of  the  richest,  most 
aristocratic,  had  left  an  inward  if  not  an  out- 
ward mark  upon  him.  He  became  afraid 
that,  after  all,  she  considered  him  but  an  ig- 
norant labourer.  He  feared  this  opportunity 
to  show  her  that  he  was  not  would  be  of  too 
short  duration.  But  why  so  concerned? 
Because  here  was  at  last  one  with  whom  he 
felt  his  mind,  his  thoughts,  his  desires  could 
blend  and  give  to  him  that  greatest  enjoy- 
ment of  all  for  which  he  had  longed. 

13 


194      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

After  making  several  ingenious  excuses 
to  himself  for  telling  it  all  to  her,  he  began. 
He  felt  sure  she  was  interested ;  she  looked 
at  him  with  so  friendly  an  expression  in 
those  deep  eyes  of  hers.  Lyder  became  al- 
most eloquent  as  he  dwelt  upon  the  charms 
of  his  dark,  wild  mountains  at  home;  the 
glittering  glaciers ;  the  long,  narrow  fiords 
of  his  native  country.  With  transport  he 
spoke  of  its  songs,  its  fairy-tales,  its  poets 
and  great  composers,  ending  by  asking  her 
if  she  had  ever  heard  any  of  Grieg's  music. 

"  Oh  yes." 

"  Really  ?  "  It  seemed  strange  to  him  to 
find  any  one  in  these  far  western  forests 
who  knew  that  music,  so  closely  connected 
with  the  nature  of  his  own  Norseland. 

"  I  heard  you  singing,"  she  said.  "  I 
suppose  it  was  you  —  far  down  in  the  canon; 
it  sounded  very  weird  and  beautiful." 

Now  they  had  reached  the  crest  of  the 
hill,  where  the  land  was  dotted  with  orchards 
and  vineyards.  On  the  other  side  it  sloped 
into  dusky  canons  and  long  spurs  of  dark, 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      195 

forest-covered  hills ;  and  beyond  them,  far, 
far  down,  the  great  Pacific. 

A  faint  reddish  glare  spread  over  the 
western  sky  in  which  the  evening  star  was 
barely  visible. 

The  surf  along  the  rounded  bay  of  Mon- 
terey resembled  a  narrow  white  ribbon. 

The  air  was  softly  vibrating  with  the 
incessant  chirp  of  the  grasshoppers,  and 
heavy  with  the  drowsy  aroma  of  blooming 
oleanders  and  ripe  fruits. 

Up  to  the  left  on  a  hillock,  surrounded  by 
spreading  live-oaks  and  tall  red-woods,  lay 
Buena  Vista,  with  its  ever-blooming  garden 
of  roses  and  oleanders,  and  large,  blue  fig- 
trees  on  both  sides  of  the  entrance. 

It  would  have  pleased  Lyder  van  Meeren 
could  that  drive  with  the  little  maiden  whom 
the  forest  so  unexpectedly  had  given  into 
his  care,  have  extended  throughout  the  even- 
ing. This  clear,  melodious  voice,  so  close  to 
him,  filled  him  with  a  strange  desire  of  trav- 
elling onward,  onward  into  that  red  evening 
air,  high,  high  above  the  dark  forests  and 


196      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

the  ocean,  onward,  onward  toward  the  even- 
ing star. 

By  the  gate  he  helped  her  down  from  the 
high  seat  of  his  waggon. 

Gay  laughter  and  a  murmur  of  voices 
sounded  from  the  verandas  and  the  trees. 

"  Thank  you  so  very  much  for  this  pleasant 
ride,  Mr.  van  Meeren,"  she  said. 

He  would  have  liked  to  say,  "  I  hope 
you  will  give  me  the  pleasure  of  repeating 
it;"  but  how  could  he  in  his  old,  dirty 
working-clothes  —  to  her,  so  well  dressed,  so 
deliciously  beautiful,  so  perfumed  ? 

She  flitted  with  a  rustling  sound  up  the 
broad  gravel  walk,  disappearing  in  the  twi- 
light behind  the  shrubbery. 

Up  in  the  hotel  the  lamps  were  being 
lighted. 

Somebody  played  dance-music  on  the 
long-suffering  piano.  It  sent  a  shudder 
through  Lyder  to  think  of  her,  who  to  him 
seemed  a  revelation  of  the  purest  harmonies, 
entering  that  atmosphere  of  degraded  music. 

He  whipped  up  his  horses,  and  the  heavy 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      197 

waggon  rattled  down  the  short,  steep  hill, 
crossing  a  brook,  and  ascended  the  mountain. 

That  horrid  voice  of  the  piano  died  away, 
but  the  memory  of  the  little  woman  who 
had  so  suddenly  come  into  his  life  stayed 
with  him.  He  still  saw  her  flitting  up  the 
gravel  walk  in  her  white,  rustling  dress,  with 
the  lace  mantilla  over  the  dark  hair.  He 
looked  at  the  footboard  where  those  dainty 
feet  in  the  tanned  shoes  had  rested ;  he  yet 
felt  the  touch  of  her  narrow  velvety  hand  in 
his.  as  he  assisted  her  from  the  waggon. 
"  The  pleasant  ride  "  —  pleasant,  she  had  said. 
Was  it  merety  an  empty  compliment,  or  —  ? 

Ah,  but,  Lyder  van  Meeren,  thou  art  poor, 
poor,  and  that,  in  civilised  society,  means  — 
degraded.  While  she?  Perhaps  very  rich. 
Yet  he  felt  she  was  one  who  could  sympathise 
with  him,  one  whose  mind  could  blend  with 
his.  An  intuition  told  him  that  they  were 
made  for  one  another ;  only  —  rich  and  poor ! 

How  deep  was  the  abyss  between  them  — 
yes,  and  between  the  son  of  Herman  van 
Meeren  in  former  days  and  himself  to-day  1 


198      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Oh,  this  rattling,  clattering  money !  Away 
with  it !  Away,  far  from  it  all  into  the  soli- 
tude of  nature;  only  there  was  sympathy  for 
him !  But  had  he  not  let  others  suffer  as 
he  had  commenced  to  suffer  now  ?  Should 
money  also  destroy  his  happiness?  Poor 
Guri  Hakonsdatter!  poor  little  lass!  She 
stood  before  him  with  that  frown  of  despair 
on  her  forehead.  He  strove  to  drive  her 
from  ^::  .noughts  and  in  her  place  put  the 
shape  of  the  little  girl  from  Buena  Vista. 
In  vain.  She  would  not  move ;  she  remained 
there  surrounded  by  her  terrible  history, — 
dead,  frozen  to  a  hard  wooden  floor,  with 
the  body  of  her  child — his  child  —  lying 
across  her  breast.  He  had  read  it  in  "  The 
Liberal  Press,"  several  years  ago.  Helga, 
his  own  sister,  had  written  that  attack  on 
so-called  Christian  society,  not  knowing  that 
her  own  brother  was  at  the  bottom  of  that 
dark  story. 

Guri  Hakonsdatter  was  poor,  but  he  had 
loved  her. 

Guri  Hakonsdatter  was  fair,  just  as  beau- 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      199 

tiful  in  her  way  as  the  little  girl  from  Buena 
Vista.  How  she  had  loved  him,  Guri,  with 
all  her  powerful,  simple  love ! 

But  to-day  —  that  little  girl  from  Buena 
Vista  —  ? 

"  Get  up,  boys !  come  on !  it  will  be  dark 
before  we  reach  home."  The  horses  trotted 
faster  in  the  gathering  dusk. 

"  Helga  is  right ;  she  is  right',''  he  repeated 
to  himself,  to  drive  away  the  dreadful  doubts 
that  ever  oppressed  him.  "  Society  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  majority  of  sins  of  its 
individuals;  but,"  he  thought,  "who  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  sins  of  society?  The  in- 
dividuals ?  No  responsibility  anywhere  ? 
An  unconquerable  evolution  and  retrogres- 
sion of  the  human  mind  ? 

"  How  forgive,  then  ?  The  one  human  te- 
rn^ forgive  the  other?  How  can  the  will  to 
obey  social  laws  be  made  responsible  when 
it  is  such  a  weakling  compared  with  our 
natural  desires? 

"  Ah,  nature  is  responsible  for  it  all ;  that 
omnipresent,  that  eternal  power  which  has 


2OO      UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS   OF    SIMPLICITY 

no  foundation  because  it  always  was;  which 
has  its  climaxes,  but  no  end ;  which,  through 
its  laws,  has  made  us  as  we  are,  made  us  to 
serve  our  place  in  its  unfathomably  immense 
household." 

When  Lyder  entered  his  cabin  that  night, 
he  thought  it  had  never  before  looked  so 
disorderly  nor  so  lonely. 

There  was  something  lacking  which  he 
had  not  missed  until  now. 

He  walked  out  again  and  sat  down  on  the 
steps. 

Far  below  him  shone  the  long  row  of 
lights  at  Buena  Vista. 

The  wind  came  over  the  mountains,  bring- 
ing with  it  the  bark  of  a  fox.  The  sound 
came  nearer,  then  slowly  died  away  in  the 
deep  canon. 

The  lonely  feeling  it  left  made  him  shud- 
der. He  returned  to  the  cabin,  lighted 
the  lamp,  and  commenced  to  read  the  home 
papers.  There  was  also  a  letter  from  his 
mother.  Regularly,  every  two  weeks  these 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      2OI 

letters  came;  but  they  contained  the  same 
thing  over  and  over  again,  —  expressions  of 
sorrow,  sympathy;  long  jeremiads  about  the 
terrible  dispensation  of  Providence  which 
had  compelled  her  son,  who  came  from  such 
a  fine  family,  to  earn  his  bread  by  labour. 
She  was  always  begging  him  to  return. 

Lyder  loved  his  mother  and  pitied  her; 
but  he  wished  she  would  not  write  him  such 
letters. 


XVIII 

FOR  weeks  after,  Lyder  remained  at  home. 
He  worked  around  the  cabin,  clearing 
land  to  be  planted  the  coming  season  with 
fruit-trees. 

As  he  laboured  steadily,  lost  in  thought, 
there  came  before  him  a  vision  of  a  climbing 
rose  hiding  his  cabin  under  its  spreading 
branches.  It  should  be  all  covered  up,  his 
little  home,  under  blooming  vines. 

A  small  three-cornered  flume  of  edgings 
brought  the  water  from  a  spring  to  the  cabin 
door.  It  fell  crystal  clear  into  a  leaky  tub, 
over  the  rim  of  which  it  oozed  into  a  large 
bed  of  petunias.  There  was  also  a  narrow 
bed  of  pansies  along  the  north  side  of  the 
cabin.  Helga  had  sent  him  the  seed,  and 
Madame  Pellier,  the  landlady  at  Buena  Vista, 
had  given  him  slips  of  verbenas  and  Japanese 
chrysanthemums. 
'  He  watered  and  watched  them  eagerly  day 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      20$ 

after  day ;  to  them  he  spoke  in  his  loneliness, 
—  they  were  his  only  companions. 

And  when  evening  came,  he  would  sit  on 
the  steps  and  sing  and  dream  and  lay  plans. 

"  Strange,"  he  thought,  "  there  is  one  be- 
sides myself  for  whom  I  do  all  this ;  who  is  it  ? 
Will  she  enjoy  my  flowers,  admire  my 
view,  that  tuft  of  drifting  summer  clouds, 
my  songs  ?  Will  she  enter  into  my  thoughts, 
and  what  would  she  say  if  I  followed  this  or 
that  desire  ?  "  She  was  one  whom  he  wanted 
to  please  ;__  a  phantom  that  followed  him 
everywhere,  and  which  had  something  of 
Guri,  of  Helga,  something  of  all  the  women 
he  had  ever  known.  But  sometimes  it  had 
something  of  his  father  too,  —  the  only  man 
he  had  really  cared  for,  —  yes,  despite  all 
misunderstandings,  had  loved. 

And  his  new  acquaintance  from  Buena 
Vista  ? 

He  watched  the  long  row  of  lighted  win- 
dows every  evening,  and  when  the  last  light 
was  extinguished,  he  imagined  it  was  hers, 
and  went  to  bed. 


2O4      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

But  Lyder  had  his  dark  hours,  when  every- 
thing seemed  lost,  his  work  wasted,  life  a 
burden. 

Then  again  some  morning  he  would  wake 
up  earlier  than  usual,  after  a  night  of  perfect 
rest,  jump  out  of  bed,  whistle  and  sing,  and 
find  everything  enjoyable.  Work  was  then 
easy  to  him.  Then  tasks  which  he  had 
dreaded  gave  him  pleasure  to  perform. 

He  had  no  longings  for  the  outside  world 
and  its  pleasures,  —  what  were  they  compared 
to  that  enjoyment  nature  gave  him? 

Despite  his  poverty  he  would  not  exchange 
with  the  richest. 


XIX 

ONE  morning  in  October,  Lyder  started 
out  before  sunrise  with  his  team  to 
haul  a  load  of  wood  to  the  station. 

The  air  was  chilly,  for  a  shower  had  fallen 
the  day  before,  and  along  the  little  rills  a 
delicate  hoar-frost  silvered  the  fallen  leaves. 

The  air  was  marvellously  clear.  The  rain 
had  washed  off  all  the  dust  and  smoke  of  the 
long,  rainless  summer,  and  Loma  Prieta,  with 
its  dense  carpet  of  brushwood,  looked  clean 
and  refreshed  after  the  bath. 

In  the  garden  at  Buena  Vista  the  chrysan- 
themums were  in  bloom.  Most  of  the  summer 
guests  had  left  for  their  city  homes ;  the  gravel 
walks  looked  deserted,  but  it  seemed  more 
homelike  there  without  the  clatter  of  dishes, 
the  inharmonious  hum  of  humanity  enjoying 
itself,  and  the  eternal  sound  of  that  suffering 
piano. 


2O6      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Lyder  had  met  the  little  girl  from  Buena 
Vista  only  once  since  the  first  time. 

She  was  in  company  with  some  other 
guests,  and  had  nodded  to  him  in  a  very 
friendly  manner.  He  had  envied  those 
companions  of  hers.  Why  should  he  not 
go  down  to  Buena  Vista  some  Sunday  and 
see  her?  he  had  asked  himself.  He  could 
don  his  best  clothes,  play  for  her  on  the 
piano,  and  show  her  he  was  not  a  "  hobo." 

But  when  Sunday  came,  he  did  not  keep 
his  promise  to  himself.  He  feared  he  should 
not  find  her  alone.  So  he  talked  to  his 
flowers,  as  usual,  and  walked  far  into  the 
woods,  among  the  tall  ferns,  fancying  Helga 
with  him,  or  that  phantom  shape  of  his  mind. 

Lyder  felt  unusually  strong  and  fresh  this 
autumn  morning.  His  horses  seemed  to 
share  his  feeling ;  he  had  hard  work  to  keep 
them  from  running  down  the  steep  hills. 

A  little  ahead  on  the  road,  where  it  made 
a  wide  curve  around  the  hill  before  re-enter- 
ing the  forest,  he  saw  a  woman  walking 
slowly. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      2O7 

Now  and  then  she  bent  over  to  pick  up 
an  autumn  leaf,  or  reached  up  the  high  bank 
for  an  overhanging  fern. 

It  was  she  whose  name  he  did  not  know, 
—  the  girl  from  Buena  Vista. 

She  had  not  left,  then,  with  the  other 
summer  guests. 

He  recognised  her  by  the  mantilla;  but 
instead  of  the  white  gown,  she  wore  one  of 
an  indescribable  hue  —  a  mixture  of  brown, 
green,  and  red  —  like  the  leaves  in  autumn. 

A  sudden  nervousness  came  over  him. 
He  would  willingly  have  stopped  then  and 
there,  yet  he  could  not  very  well  be  so  rude 
as  to  pass  by  and  not  offer  her  a  ride. 

So  he  slowed  his  horses,  holding  them 
back  firmly. 

There  was  something  about  this  girl  he 
almost  envied  her,  —  not  on  his  own  account, 
but  for  her  sake,  who  once  had  given  all  of 
herself  to  him,  but  who  did  not  possess 
this  development  of  the  soul,  these  refined 
thoughts,  language  and  action  which  made 
the  young  lady  from  Buena  Vista  her  supe- 


2O8      UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

rior.  Yes,  he  envied  her  that  she  should 
possess  all  these  qualities  of  body  and  mind, 
which  in  their  combination  could  give  him 
a  happiness  which  he  dared  not  hope  would 
ever  become  his. 

And  as  he  slowly  drove  along,  holding 
back  his  horses,  he  compared  these  two 
women  and  saw  the  difference  in  them. 

This  little  maid  from  Buena  Vista  pos- 
sessed that  which  forbade  him  to  look  at 
her  with  eyes  of  low  desire.  She  was  sur- 
rounded by  that  halo  of  a  cultured  mind 
which,  combined  with  physical  beauty  and 
an  emotional  soul,  makes  the  ideal  woman, 
while  Guri  —  poor,  poor  lass ! 

Ah,  if  that  little  maid  in  front  of  him 
would  lay  her  hand  in  his,  turn  her  back 
to  the  world,  go  with  him  trustfully,  gladly, 
into  the  forest  —  higher,  higher,  to  where 
his  cabin  stands  on  the  hill  with  "  God's 
country  "  all  around  ! 

How  beautiful  she  is,  how  gracefully  she 
flits  from  roadside  to  roadside,  picking  be- 
lated flowers  and  autumn  leaves. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      2OQ 

Hearing  the  waggon  rattle  close  behind 
her,  she  stepped  to  one  side  of  the  road  to 
let  it  pass ;  but  recognising  Lyder,  she 
waved  her  bouquet  and  called  out,  smiling, 
"  Don't  drive  over  me,  please." 

Lyder  tipped  his  hat  somewhat  awk- 
wardly. "  No  indeed,  I  won't."  Then  hesi- 
tatingly, "  May  I  —  I  offer  you  a  ride  this 
morning  ?  " 

Pushing  the  lace  of  the  mantilla  away 
from  her  eyes,  she  looked  up  at  the  high 
seat 

"You  are  rather  high  up;  are  you.  sure 
I  might  not  lose  my  balance  and  tumble 
into  the  canon  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,"  he  answered  assuringly,  "  there 
is  no  danger.  I  will  drive  very  slowly." 

"  But  it  might  be  too  heavy  for  your 
horses." 

"  Ha !  ha  !  "  he  laughed  merrily.  "  What 
a  heavy-weight  you  must  be !  But  it 's  all 
down  hill,  you  know." 

He  tied  the  lines  to  the  brake-bar,  and 
with  both  hands  assisted  her  up. 

14 


2IO      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

"  Ah,"  she  exclaimed,  when  well  seated, 
"the  view  from  here  is  still  better." 

"Your  health  seems  to  have  improved," 
he  ventured  to  say,  "  since  you  came  here, 
judging  from  your  colour." 

"  Indeed  it  has,"  she  replied,  and  lowered 
her  eyes  for  a  second.  "  These  forests  and 
this  pure  mountain  air  have  done  all  that 
for  me." 

"  And  the  good  company  at  Buena  Vista," 
he  interrupted. 

"  Hardly ;  there  are  very  few  people  there 
with  whom  I  sympathise.  Besides,  I  left  the 
city  to  be  alone  and  rest." 

Glancing  back  at  the  waggon,  she  said 
kindly,  — 

"  It  is  hard  work  to  cut  wood,  is  it 
not?" 

"Yes,  rather,  but  it  is  healthy  work.  I 
always  feel  best  when  I  chop  wood.  Of 
course  it  hurts  me  every  time  one  of  those 
old,  beautiful  trees  topples  over.  I  always 
think  of  the  long  ages  it  has  taken  to  make 
them  what  they  are,  what  wonderful  trans- 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      2 1  I 

formations  of  matter,  what  powers.  They 
seem  to  sigh  in  falling,  as  if  grieving  over 
themselves;  but  I  am  obliged  to  clear  the 
land  to  make  it  produce  something  of  more 
value." 

She  looked  at  him  attentively  for  a 
moment,  then  away  over  the  canon. 

They  were  getting  into  denser  and  denser 
woods.  The  blue] ays  shrieked  in  the  oaks, 
gathering  acorns,  and  the  clank  of  the  wood- 
chopper's  axe  came  wafted  across  from  the 
opposite  mountain. 

Lyder  did  not  hurry  his  horses  in  the 
least.  This  ride  was  to  last  as  long  as 
possible. 

"  It  is  rare  to  hear  men  speak  that  way," 
she  said,  after  having  been  silent  for  some 
time.  She  again  looked  at  him  scrutinis- 
ingly,  as  if  to  learn  out  of  what  strange 
material  this  son  of  the  Vikings  was  made. 

"  Most  men,"  she  continued,  when  he  did 
not  answer,  "  seem  to  think  of  nothing  but 
money,  business,  —  continually  business." 

"Yes,"  he    interrupted,   "and    they   don't 


212      UNTO   THE    HIEGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

care  if  they  ruin  others  for  the  sake  of  it, 
either." 

"  And  much  less  a  tree.  Where  did  you 
get  so  much  feeling,  Mr.  van  Meeren ;  are 
all  Norwegians  like  that  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  Miss  —  "  He  fumbled  in 
his  thoughts  for  her  name,  then  remembered 
she  had  not  divulged  it. 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  van  Meeren ;  my  name 
is  Garland  —  Irene  Garland ;  I  should  have 
told  you  it  sooner." 

"  Irene  is  a  very  pretty  name ;  there  is 
music  in  it." 

"  Oh,  you  Scandinavians  and  Germans 
hear  music  everywhere.  It  is  quite  possible, 
though.  My  brother  calls  me  Iry,  and  I 
don't  like  it.  Oh  me!  look  at  yonder 
trees !  and  there,  away  down,  how  the 
brook  glitters  through  the  tree-tops.  How 
beautiful !  " 

"  Is  your  brother  in  California  ? " 

"  Yes,  he  is  in  business  in  San  Francisco. 
He  is  the  only  brother  I  have.  My  father 
and  mother  died  when  I  was  a  child." 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      213 

"  And  I  have  only  one  sister,  —  Helga.  I 
long  much  for  her;  we  had  a  great  deal  in 
common.  When  evening  comes,  and  I  sit 
alone  up  there  on  the  mountain,  and  every- 
thing is  so  quiet,  I  long  for  her.  It  seems 
hard  that  we  must  be  separated.  How  she 
would  admire  these  endless  forest  vistas ! 
We  were  very  happy  together.  We  raised 
beautiful  flowers,  getting  the  seeds  from 
foreign  countries ;  how  eagerly  we  watched 
the  plants  which  grew  from  them.  We 
made  trails  through  the  wood.  I  tell  you 
they  were  masterpieces  of  civil  engineering," 
he  added,  laughing. 

She  joined  his  laughter.  He  resumed 
more  seriously,  — 

"  I  often  think  if  I  had  Helga  here,  I 
should  never  feel  blue.  In  this  strange 
country  there  is  no  one  who  cares  for  me, 
and  I  am  one  of  those  unhappy  mortals 
to  whom  life  without  sympathy  is  misery. 
What  should  I  do  had  I  not  my  young 
orchard,  my  flowers,  and  all  this  natural 
beauty  around  me!  I  am  sure  you  would 


214      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

like  her,"  he  added,  then  feared  that  he  had 
said  too  much. 

"  Indeed,  I  should  like  to  know  her.  Tell 
her,  for  me,  that  there  is  an  American  girl 
out  here  who  loves  nature  as  well  as  she. 
Maybe  she  would  sing  for  me  some  of  your 
old  Norse  songs ;  how  delightful  it  would  be  ! 
The  rare,  the  strange,  has  always  had  a  great 
attraction  for  me." 

"  And  if  she  were  here  I  should  not  let 
you  two  enjoy  it  all  alone,  either,  cest-a-dire, 
—  I  should,  of  course,  simply  be  your  guide 
through  this  forest  and  mountain  wilderness. 
I  have  been  on  many  an  exploring  expedition 
there,  and  I  have  found  secluded  nooks  in 
these  canons,  where  the  ferns  are  taller  than 
I,  where  the  brook  babbles  along  through 
the  eternal  shades,  and  where  there  is,  oh, 
such  a  music  of  nature's  voices ;  then  I  am 
as  happy  as  happy  can  be." 

"  There  is  that  music  again,"  she  cried, 
"  music  of  nature's  voices.  Yes,  I  can  hear 
it  too,  only  not  interpret  it ;  can  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,  sometimes   when   I   am  alone, 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      215 

or  with  one  I  know  understands  me.  Away 
in  there  in  the  great  solitude  is  my  dream- 
land with  its  faint  vibrating  music  on  a 
summer  night,  its  grand  organ  tones  when 
the  storm  sings  its  oratorio." 

"  How  beautiful !  Yes,  indeed,  I  should 
like  to  be  one  of  you  here."  She  gave  an 
earnest  look  to  her  bouquet  of  ferns  and 
autumn  leaves.  "  I  feel  so  free,  so  happy 
here.  I  can  understand  how  much  more  it 
gladdens  you,  for  you  see  more  than  I,  you 
live  nearer  to  '  nature's  heart.'  Soon  I  go 
back  to  the  city ;  then  it  will  all  be  a  recol- 
lection of  happier  days.  It  will  make  me 
sad.  Your  voice  is  clear  and  deep,  you  hear 
music  everywhere,  —  will  you  not  sing  for 
me?" 

"  I  would  rather  talk  to  you." 

"  And  why  not  talk  to  me  as  you  do  to 
nature  ?  "  she  asked  beseechingly.  "  Sup- 
pose," —  when  he  shook  his  head  and  smiled, 
"  suppose  you  imagine  you  are  alone  now, 
and  sing  one  of  your  talks  with  nature." 

He  looked  down  at  her,  not  sure  that  she 


2l6      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

had  understood  his  feelings,  if  in  what  she 
said  there  was  not  a  tinge  of  ridicule ;  but 
her  next  words  dispelled  the  doubt. 

"  I  have  been  told,  or  I  read  somewhere, 
that  the  melodies  of  your  music  —  the  music 
of  Norse  composers  —  are  developed  to  a 
great  extent  from  the  old  folk-songs." 

".Oh,  yes,  that  is  true,"  he  replied  ;  "  but 
in  the  harmonies  with  which  those  melodies 
are  linked  together,  you  will  hear  the  voices 
of  our  grand  mountains.  Take  Edward 
Grieg's  compositions;  in  them  is  the  fairy- 
like  whisper  of  the  wind  in  the  forest,  the 
ripple  of  wavelets  on  the  lakes  and  fiords,  the 
boom  of  the  waterfalls,  the  crushing,  wild 
rumble  of  the  avalanche,  the  shrieks  of  water- 
birds,  the  faint  fluting  of  birds  from  the  high 
mountain  heath ;  the  heavy,  awkward  steps 
of  the  troll,  when  he  comes  to  dance  with 
the  safer  lass ;  the  laughter  and  cajoling  of 
the  huldre,  and  through  it  all,  as  a  veining 
echo  among  hills,  sound  the  folk-melodies  in 
new  forms  interwoven  with  a  chaos  of  har- 
monies that  seem  to  be  issuing  from  among 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY      217 

the  boulders  of  the  rock-slides,  —  a  medley 
of  fairy-tales." 

"  How  beautiful !  "  she  said  musingly.  "  I 
think  I  understand  better  now  that  strange, 
bewitching  music  of  Grieg's.  My  teacher  in 
San  Francisco  is  a  great  admirer  of  his  work. 
But  won't  you  sing  for  me  now,  one  of  those 
little  folk-songs,  that  I  may  understand  it  still 
better  ?  "  she  begged. 

"  Sometime,  perhaps.  I  have  not  known 
you  long  enough  to  sing  for  you.  Pardon 
me,  I  know  I  am  very  odd,  but,  some  day, 
when  you  return  from  the  city,  because  you 
must  come  back  to  the  forest,  I  will  sing 
for  you.  And  so  you  must  go  back  to  the 
city  ?  I  feel  sorry  for  you.  I  could  not  live 
there ;  my  life  would  be  lost.  Sometimes  I 
have  a  strange  wish  that  I  could  take  Helga 
with  me  and  that  we  might  lose  ourselves 
for  ever  in  the  forest.  In  the  world  one  has 
to  be  hard,  unfeeling,  in  order  to  succeed.  I 
hate  it  all." 

They  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
canon  where  the  road  crossed  the  brook. 


2l8      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

They  drove  along  under  deep  shade.  The 
water  glittered  below  the  overhanging  trees, 
gliding  over  the  pebbles  and  yellow  leaves, 
and  the  ferns  looked  heavy  with  moisture. 

Irene  Garland  kept  looking  into  her  bou- 
quet, smoothing  aside  the  leaves  as  if  she 
wished  to  get  to  the  heart  of  it.  She  had 
grown  tired  of  these  sombre,  dead  things. 
They  were  good  enough  as  companions, 
when  there  was  nothing  else  to  attract  her; 
now  they  had  commenced  to  crimp  up  and 
look  ugly.  Silently  she  dropped  them  out- 
side the  wagon. 

It  was  true  .what  he  said,  —  she  knew  it 
from  her  own  experience.  He  had  un- 
wittingly surprised  her  secret,  which  had 
haunted  her  so  until  the  forest's  soothing 
influence  had  captured  her,  making  her  a 
part  of  its  great  soul.  But  as  the  forest 
had  become  her  healer,  it  also  awed  her; 
she  felt  the  need  of  a  human  soul  to  share 
the  enjoyment  of  this  "  over-soul,"  drive  away 
its  mental  apparitions. 

She  had  searched  for  such  a  one  among 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      2IQ 

the  guests  at  Buena  Vista,  but  in  vain.  It 
was  so  everywhere;  men  and  women,  they 
were  all  alike.  An  old  lady,  a  motherly 
friend  of  hers  in  the  East,  had  told  her, 
"  I  am  in  despair  to  find  so  few  people 
with  independent  thoughts,  who  possess 
anything  worth  the  name  of  thoughts." 

But  to-day,  on  the  high  seat  of  that  jolting 
lumber-waggon  —  she  dared  hardly  believe  it 

—  here  was  a  man  who,  with  a  foreign  ac- 
cent, spoke  words  which  filled  her  with  hap- 
piness,  which   even    made    her    forget    the 
forest,    and    then    again     led    her    uncon- 
sciously into  its  mysteries. 

"  Yes,  you  are  right,  Mr.  van  Meeren,"  she 
said ;  "  I  felt  it  long  ago,  but  dared  not  think 
it  out,  for  it  would  not  be  according  to  the 
ideas  of  all  the  others.  This  civilised  so- 
ciety is  a  sorry  institution.  It  is  as  you  say 

—  one  could  long  to  lose  oneself  in  the  forest 
never  to  return.     But  am   I  too  inquisitive, 
if  I  ask  how  you,  a  man,  have  come  to  look 
at  things  in  this  light?  —  you  who  have  so 
much  more  advantage  of  those  laws  than  we 


22O      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF    SIMPLICITY 

women  ?  I  can  hardly  believe  that  there  has 
existed  any  one  who  would  be  willing  to  give 
up  an  advantageous  position  in  the  world  be- 
cause he  saw  it  to  be  unfair.  I  have  got 
into  the  habit  of  thinking  that  it  is  only  the 
losers,  the  sufferers,  and  not  the  gainers, 
who  see  the  need  of  reforms." 

"  Miss  Garland,  if  you  had  experienced 
what  I  have,  seen  what  I  have  seen  in  my 
short  life,  —  the  unmerciful,  cruel  hand  of 
Christian  society  destroy  what  was  noblest 
and  dearest  to  you,  —  you  would  not  speak 
of  men  as  gainers  and  women  as  sufferers; 
you  would  hear  one  ceaseless  shriek  of  de- 
spair from  the  mass  of  humanity.  Can  you 
not  hear  them,  see  them,  —  how  they  clutch 
at  one  another's  throats  for  money !  " 

A  shrill  whistle  from  the  locomotive  broke 
the  silence  of  the  great  forest.  It  died  away 
like  an  echo  under  the  high  green  vault. 
The  cars  rumbled  over  the  rails,  and,  a  few 
minutes  later,  Lyder  drew  up  at  the  station. 

Irene  had   intended   to  walk   no   farther 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      221 

than  to  her  friend,  the  large  gray  rock  by 
the  roadside.  She  had  not  even  noticed  it, 
—  the  poor  rock  on  whose  strong  breast  she 
had  sat  for  hours  dreaming  and  regaining 
her  health.  She  had  forgotten  it  for  another 
friend. 

Towards  evening  they  were  back  again  at 
Buena  Vista. 

It  had  been  a  delightful  day  for  both  of 
them.  The  forest  had  opened  their  hearts, 
and  they  had  confided  to  each  other  feelings, 
thoughts,  and  desires  which  under  other  cir- 
cumstances, with  other  surroundings,  would 
perhaps  have  been  uttered  only  after  months 
of  daily  intercourse. 

As  Lyder  carefully  helped  her  down  from 
the  waggon,  the  soft  narrow  hand  rested  in 
his.  How  he  wished  to  keep  that  little 
hand !  But  he  conquered  his  emotions  and 
said  almost  nonchalantly, — 

"  Miss  Garland,  if,  after  this  experience, 
you  do  not  consider  a  drive  on  my  jolting 
waggon  too  rough  to  be  bearable,  I  shall  be 
happy  to  offer  it  to  you  again." 


222      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

"  Thanks,"  she  said.  "  It  has  been  very 
pleasant,  thanks."  She  looked  at  the  seat. 
"  Why,  I  entirely  forgot  how  dangerously 
high  up  I  was."  Then  fearing  lest  he  might 
draw  the  right  conclusion  from  her  words, 
she  added,  laughing:  "  But  so  it  is;  when  one 
gets  used  to  a  thing,  the  danger  of  it  is  soon 
forgotten.  I  have  noticed  a  small  light  shim- 
mering high  up  there  on  the  mountain  towards 
Loma  Prieta ;  I  wondered  if  it  were  yours." 

"  Yes ;  and  when  I  sit  on  the  steps  of  my 
cabin,  I  can  see  the  whole  row  of  lights  here 
at  Buena  Vista." 

The  level  red  rays  of  the  setting  sun  fell 
among  the  trunks  of  the  red-woods.  It  put 
fire  to  the  windows  of  the  buildings,  and 
heightened  the  colours  of  the  many-hued 
autumn  attire  of  the  oaks  and  the  poison- 
ivy.  Below  lay  the  canons  in  hazy  purple 
shadows,  one  running  into  another,  between 
the  sun-glowing  forest  ridges  brilliant  with 
patches  of  autumn  colours;  while  far,  far  be- 
yond lay  the  ocean,  barely  visible  through  the 
evening  mist. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      223 

Lyder's  waggon  rattled  down  a  short  slope 
and  across  the  rocky  bed  of  a  rill.  His 
horses  knew  they  were  homeward  bound, 
they  could  not  understand  why  they  had 
been  kept  back  so  much  all  day,  when  they 
were  so  willing  to  go.  But  now  they  felt  the 
lines  slack,  they  used  their  opportunity  and 
hurried  up  the  steep,  winding  road  towards 
home. 

Lyder  hastened  to  light  the  lamp.  Then 
he  put  fire  to  the  large  brush-piles ;  —  would 
she  not  be  looking  out  for  his  beacon? 

The  fire  cast  a  red  glare  over  the  hills.  It 
cracked  and  snapped  in  the  green  limbs,  and 
the  sparks  whirled  into  the  star-lit  autumn 
sky.  A  faint  echo  answered  from  the 
ravines,  and  the  fox  barked  over  by  Loma 
Prieta.  Scared  by  the  fire,  it  hurried  back 
to  its  lonesome  haunts. 

And  he  wondered  if  Irene  was  watching 
his  fire ;  perhaps  she  was  leaning  on  the  bal- 
ustrade of  the  piazza,  wishing  herself  up 
there  in  the  solitude  of  the  mountains,  for 


224      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

had  she  not  said  she  sometimes,  like  himself, 
felt  a  desire  to  lose  herself  in  the  wild-woods, 
never  to  return  to  the  world  ? 

Seating  himself  not  far  from  the  fire,  he 
watched  the  blue  jets  of  hissing  flame  emer- 
ging from  the  glowing  logs.  He  saw  in 
there  a  golden  dream-castle  with  many  halls, 
one  behind  the  other,  and  a  strange  light 
shining  from  all  directions.  The  halls  ex- 
tended, as  he  more  and  more  became  lost  in 
his  dream ;  they  became  the  abode  of  his 
materialised  thoughts,  listlessly  gliding  from 
one  to  the  other,  restlessly  passing  one 
another;  some  with  fair,  open  faces,  others 
wrapt  in  dark  veils,  through  which  glowed 
the  reflection  in  their  eyes  of  the  red  light. 
Ah,  they  were  all  his  thoughts,  these  shapes, 
—  his  thoughts  from  away  back,  when  he 
was  but  a  child,  up  to  the  present  day. 
They  glided  back  and  forth  without  sound, 
in  an  endless  chain,  through  these  immense, 
glowing  halls  of  his  memory ;  and  there  was 
one  among  them  who  persisted  in  passing 
near  to  him  with  arms  outstretched  as  if 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      225 

feeling  for  something  in  the  deep  darkness 
—  ah,  perhaps  a  darkness  which  was  her 
own. 

Was  she  searching  for  him,  that  tall 
figure  in  the  black  veil  trailing  behind 
her? 

Could  she  feel  his  nearness,  yet  never 
touch  him  ? 

What  separated  them ;  and  which  one  of 
his  thoughts  was  she  ? 

He  knew  it  —  she  must  be  looking  for 
him  in  vain.  To  be  sure,  he  had  once  en- 
joyed life  with  her ! 

To  be  sure,  she  was  once  his  / 

"  Cruel,  cruel,  cruel ! "  he  murmured.  His 
heart  filled  with  sympathy  for  that  figure 
groping  so  helplessly  in  the  dark,  despite  all 
this  glowing  light  of  his  dream-castle. 

What  did  she  want  with  him  ?  Those 
slender  arms  looked  as  if  they  wanted  to 
embrace.  Was  it  perhaps  for  the  entrance 
to  the  hall  she  searched,  that  she  might 
escape,  —  slip  quietly  outside,  into  that  blue 
twilight  with  the  tall  poplars  against  the  deep 

'5 


226       UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

blue  sky,  —  outside  and  past  the  river  of  life, 
by  which  his  castle  lay  ? 

His  eyes  left  her  for  a  while  and  wandered 
among  those  other  shapes,  some  of  whom 
were  far,  far  back,  almost  disappearing  in 
the  distance,-  so  large  were  the  halls. 

And  so  many  women  among  them !  He 
could  not  recognise  them  all  —  no,  not  by 
far  —  despite  their  ideal  forms  and  the  beauty 
of  their  faces. 

But  by  his  side,  close  to  him,  with  her  arm 
in  his,  leaning  trustfully  on  him,  safe  and 
happy,  looking  into  his  eyes  with  love  —  the 
little  girl  from  Buena  Vista. 

She  had  entered  the  door  of  his  castle 
when  least  expected.  Was  she  ready  to 
spend  her  life  with  him  ;  not  asking,  Who  are 
those  shapes,  the  dark  ones,  and  those  whose 
faces  shine  with  light  ?  Was  it  enough  to 
her  that  they  were  his  ? 

The  wind  sighed  in  the  tall  poplars  out  in 
the  blue  twilight  by  the  river  of  life.  It 
carried  with  it,  through  the  wide  open  por- 
tals of  his  castle,  the  fragrance  of  night- 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      227 

blooming  flowers  whose  fruits  were  poisonous, 
and  the  nightingale  mingled  its  warblings 
with  the  music  from  the  harp  of  night. 

Then  the  tall,  dark  figure  with  outstretched 
arms  glided  still  closer  to  him  and  laid  her 
hands  in  his.  Dropping  her  veil,  she  stood 
silent,  pale  as  death  —  Guri  Hakonsdatter  ! 

Her  smile  was  sad,  but  full  of  love.  She 
nodded  forgiveness  to  him,  never  speaking. 
One  long  look  of  love,  which  encircled  also 
the  little  girl  by  his  side.  Taking  her  hand, 
she  looked  earnestly  into  her  eyes  and  again 
at  him,  dropped  her  own  hands  to  her  side, 
and  passed  away. 

She  met  another  shape  by  the  door  —  a 
man.  Hand  in  hand  they  glided  out  into 
the  blue  twilight  and  passed  far  beyond  the 
river  of  life. 

"  My  father,  oh,  my  father !  "  whispered 
Lyder,  and  awoke  from  his  dreams  weeping. 

It  was  very  quiet  all  around.  The  deep 
night  rested  over  the  land.  A  few  small 
red  lights  shimmered  in  the  distance,  far,  far 
below. 


228      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

His  brush-piles  had  dwindled  into  heaps  of 
glowing  embers,  over  which  crept  a  low, 
flickering  blue  flame.  No  air  was  stirring, 
not  the  least  sigh  in  the  chaparral. 

They  had  been  very  close  to  him,  —  those 
two  toward  whom  he  had  sinned  the  most. 
But  had  he  not  read  forgiveness  in  their  eyes  ? 

He  felt  nervous  and  dazed,  dropping  so 
suddenly  back  to  reality.  And  the  desola- 
tion of  the  mountains  fell  over  him  like  a 
cold  breath  from  a  cave,  arousing  in  him 
fear.  He  listened  for  sounds.  The  least 
snapping  of  a  dry  twig  would  not  have  es- 
caped him,  so  greatly  intensified  seemed  his 
hearing. 

Yes,  they  had  forgiven  him,  those  two 
towards  whom  he  had  sinned  the  most;  but 
was  not  there  a  third  to  reckon  with, — 
civilisation,  society  with  its  laws  of  selfish- 
ness and  arrogance  that  breed  hypocrisy? 
Those  lights  away  yonder,  —  what  strife, 
what  greed  behind  those  glowing  embers  of 
human  homes !  What  hypocrisy  often  be- 
tween man  and  wife  1 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      22Q 

Sitting  there  in  the  stillness  of  the  moun- 
tain solitude,  there  seemed  of  a  sudden  an 
abyss  between  him  and  the  world.  On  his 
side,  the  simple  open-faced  spontaneity  of 
nature;  beyond,  a  narrow  creed  which 
tried  to  bind  human  thoughts.  "  Ah,  but 
the  human  heart,"  he  spoke,  and  put  his 
hand  over  his  own,  "  it  beats,  it  beats ;  and 
when  you  think  it  the  tamest,  of  a  sudden  it 
runs  like  a  wild  horse  over  the  level  pampas. 
Forgotten  are  all  its  learnings  and  the  pains 
it  paid  for  them." 

His  thoughts  wandered  back  to  his  old 
home  and  to  bygone  days.  There  lay  a 
sadness  over  it.  He  compared  it  to-night 
with  so  many  other  homes  he  had  known, 
some  yet  aglow  in  his  thoughts  with  the 
happiness  they  had  breathed.  He  wondered 
why  he  had  not  then  seen  the  great  differ- 
ence between  them  and  his  own.  Man  is 
a  beast  of  habit  —  he  excused  himself.  He 
wondered  if  he  had  really  ever  experienced 
full  happiness.  He  had  often  started  out 
with  a  light  heart  on  its  road  of  song,  but 


230      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

suddenly  a  broad  shadow  fell  across  it,  un- 
expected, and  cooling  his  ardour.  Ah,  if  he 
ever  could  free  himself  of  all  shadows !  feel 
such  joy  as  Nature  breathes  when  spring  re- 
turns after  the  long,  gray  northern  winter. 
Love  was  missing  in  his  old  home.  He  saw 
it  clearly  now,  how  its  absence  had  frozen 
two  hearts.  Should  his  also  die  the  same 
death?  He  was  young  yet;  life  lay  before 
him.  No,  no;  he  would  nurse  the  child 
well,  give  it  all  the  liberty  it  wanted,  see  it 
develop  into  greater  and  greater  beauty, — 
blessed  little  child  of  his  heart !  He  put  his 
fingers  into  its  curly  locks  and  called  it 
names  of  endearment.  How  pure  and  fra- 
grant was  its  childish  body,  anointed  by 
Nature  herself!  It  stood  on  the  crest  of 
the  heights  of  simplicity,  looking  all  over 
the  world  laughing. 

Was  there  any  danger  of  its  ever  straying 
away  from  him, — perhaps,  when  it  grew  older, 
tired  of  him,  seek  farther  into  the  wilder- 
ness to  heights  where  he  could  not  reach  ? 
Had  he  better  make  it  promise  to  stay,  or 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      23! 

were  it  safer  yet  to  tie  its  wings,  put  a  chain 
around  its  ankle,  and  stake  it  by  the  hut,  lest 
some  day,  on  returning  home,  he  should  find 
it  gone  ? 

"  Silly  fool !  "  he  told  himself.  "  You  would 
find  its  dead  body  in  the  chains,  and  its  soul 
gone,  far  too  free  for  human  fetters." 

Love  was  truly  with  him  now.  Did  he 
not  love  that  little  girl  from  Buena  Vista? 
How  dared  he,  struggling  with  poverty  in 
this  wilderness? 

Yet,  if  she  loved  him,  as  he  knew  she 
could  love,  what  was  all  the  rest  ?  Love  con- 
quers all !  She  had  inspired  in  him  some- 
thing which  had  made  him  nobler,  stronger, 
more  courageous;  which  in  her  nearness 
and  in  his  thoughts  of  her  excluded  all  sen- 
suality, and  left  true  passion,  —  that  which 
elevates  humanity  above  the  beast. 

"  Oh  me,"  he  sighed,  "  Irene,  Irene !  "  and 
his  voice  grew  warm  as  he  exclaimed  to  the 
night,  "  I  love  you,  Irene !  " 

There  was  so  much  which  before  had  been 
a  mystery  to  him. 


232       UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

He  saw  now  plainly  what  had  been  lack- 
ing in  his  old  home ;  it  was  love,  —  love  be- 
tween man  and  wife.  And  the  result  ?  This 
cold  haughtiness  between  his  parents  and 
his  father's  death. 

All  the  lights  among  the  hills  were  ex- 
tinguished, save  the  one  at  Buena  Vista. 

It  must  be  kept  burning  by  one  whose 
mind,  like  his  own,  was  too  full  for  sleep. 

But  that  last  light  was  also  extinguished. 
He  thought  he  saw  it  lighted  again  just  for 
a  second.  The  fox  barked  again  without 
fear,  for  the  fire  had  died  away.  The  sound 
came  very  near.  "  Poor  thing,"  said  Lyder, 
"  let  it  live ;  it  is  calling  its  mate."  Then 
he  remembered  his  chickens  and  hooted. 
An  echo  answered  him  from  out  of  the 
darkness. 

"  Good-night  —  good-night,  Irene."  He 
waved  his  hand  towards  Buena  Vista. 


XX 

THE  first  hard  storm  of  the  season  was 
shaking  off  the  last  yellow  leaves  from 
the  sycamores  and  oaks. 

It  had  come  unexpectedly  after  dark. 
The  wind  howled  dismally  in  the  forest,  and 
roared  like  distant  thunder  in  the  deep 
canons.  It  played  aimlessly  in  the  chapar- 
ral, but  it  played  roughly,  bending  and  twist- 
ing it  with  unrelenting  boisterousness. 

On  such  nights  Lyder  longed  for  his  old 
home.  Here  was  the  same  song  of  the 
storm  ;  but  in  his  native  country,  where  the 
waves  thundered  over  the  naked  cliffs,  and 
the  sea  moaned  as  if  in  hellish  pain,  it  was 
a  wilder,  grander  one. 

The  second  day  of  the  storm,  towards 
evening,  Lyder  was  on  his  way  to  Buena 
Vista. 

Irene  had  only  three  more  days  to  stay. 


234      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

There  were  no  other  guests  now,  and 
Lyder  felt  an  irresistible  desire  to  see  her 
that  very  day,  —  they  could  enjoy  the  stormy 
evening  together. 

He  had  resolved  to  play  for  her ;  he  would 
make  her  remember  him. 

The  storm,  which  yet  kept  up  its  fury, 
inspired  him  with  weird  happiness. 

Below  him  the  dark  red-woods  roared 
and  sighed.  The  gray,  infuriated  air  swept 
thundering  through  the  canons.  A  gray- 
headed  forest  giant  toppled  over,  crashing 
into  the  surrounding  trees,  strewing  needles 
and  red  bark  all  around.  It  sang  its  swan- 
song  when,  after  having  withstood  thou- 
sands of  former  storms,  it  fell  at  last  with 
a  sigh  that  reverberated  among  the  great 
hills. 

And  under  the  low  sky  of  heavy  rolling 
clouds  two  gray  eagles  worked  up  against 
the  wind.  Uttering  their  wild,  piercing 
cries,  they  gave  in  to  the  greater  force,  and, 
soon  overtaken  by  the  down-pour,  sailed  off 
towards  the  mountains. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      235 

Lyder  braved  the  storm  well.  He  was 
clad  in  a  long  oilcoat  and  high  rubber  boots, 
with  a  yellow  southwester  pressed  down  on 
his  head. 

Strong  and  happy,  he  looked  out  over  the 
storm-swept  country.  With  his  light  hair 
curling  about  his  ears,  he  resembled  one  of 
those  brave  pilots  of  his  native  coast. 

His  breast  rose  and  fell  with  enjoyment. 
His  whole  body  and  his  soul  felt  refreshed  ; 
he  laughed  aloud  when  the  storm  sometimes 
took  hold  of  him  and  he  had  to  bend  for- 
wards not  to  lose  his  balance. 

When  he  entered  the  gate  at  Buena  Vista, 
he  saw  that  the  rain  and  wind  had  played 
sorry  havoc  with  the  chrysanthemums.  Large 
moss-covered  limbs  had  fallen  from  the 
old  oaks  across  the  roads.  The  water  was 
washing  deep  gullies  in  the  loose  soil  of 
the  vineyard  ;  the  yellow  leaves  of  the  syca- 
mores lay  in  large  wet  piles  against  anything 
which  had  offered  them  resistance.  In  the 
woods  the  storm  roared  incessantly. 

Irene  entered  the  parlour,  and  greeted  him 


236      UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

warmly  in  her  charming,  unconventional 
way,  extending  both  her  hands  to  him. 

"  There  is  no  one  I  would  rather  see  than 
you  to-night,"  she  said.  "  I  know  how  you 
delight  in  this  storm,  you  Norsemen  are 
such  a  romantic  race.  How  it  must  take 
you  back  to  your  fiords  you  told  me  about 
the  other  day.  You  need  only  shut  your 
eyes,  and  imagine  that  this  roar  in  the  forest 
and  canons  is  the  voice  of  the  sea  —  or 
music  —  pardon  me  —  music  of  the  sea  — 
to  be  in  your  own  Norseland.  I  Ve  been 
longing  to  see  you  to-day  and  hear  you  play, 
but  had  no  thought  you  would  come  in  this 
stormy  weather,  though  you  told  me  what  a 
gray-weather  bird  you  are." 

"  Well,  you  see,"  he  answered  frankly,  "  I 
knew  you  had  but  a  short  time  to  stay,  and 
I  wanted  to  see  you  once  more  before  you 
should  pass  out  of  my  life,  perhaps  for  ever. 
In  this  country  it  seems  the  common  fate 
to  meet  and  part.  You  are  a  restless  people, 
singularly  devoid  of  attachment  to  your 
homes,  even  to  the  spot  where  you  were 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      237 

born.  You  say  good-bye  to  old  surround- 
ings as  easily  as  we  foreigners  depart  from  a 
hostelry  in  which  we  have  stayed  for  a  night." 

"  Yes,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "  your  way 
of  looking  at  a  home  as  a  place  where 
you  are  to  stay  for  life  and  where  your 
children  and  children's  children  will  enjoy 
the  shade  and  fruits  of  the  trees  you  planted, 
is  certainly  a  more  happy  one.  But  are  you 
sure  it  is  the  most  broadening,  most  civilis- 
ing way  to  live? 

"  It  certainly  has  its  charms,  and  so  has 
our  moving  way  of  life.  Not  that  /  enjoy 
it,  for  I  am  a  great  home-body,  but  I  know 
that  nothing  is  more  educating  than  to 
travel,  meet  new  people,  live  under  new 
conditions,  see  new  countries  with  their 
people,  and  other  manners ;  —  fight  the 
battle  of  existence,  to-day  on  the  hill-tops, 
to-morrow  on  the  prairie,  one  day  far  to 
the  north,  then  again  under  a  southern  sky. 
And,"  she  added  roguishly,  "  I  am  aware 
that  some  Norsemen  even,  despite  their  — 
h'm  —  great  stolidity,  follow  that  call  from 


238      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

afar,  from  the  romantic  unknown  with  its 
adventurous  charms;  and  among  them  a 
Mr.  van  Meeren,  whose  longing  for  that 
alluring  —  let  me  say  it  out,  please  —  allur- 
ing unknown  brought  him  from  the  city  of 
Bergen  in  the  gray  land  of  the  Norsemen 
to  settle  on  a  high  "  (she  stood  on  tiptoe, 
to  make  it  more  emphatic)  "  hilltop  on  the 
western  slope  of  this  continent,  and  —  " 
Lyder  interrupted  her  laughingly,  — 
"  Ah,  yes ;  but,  Miss  Garland,  it  was  for 
the  very  sake  of  finding  a  home  of  his  own, 
where  he  might  stay  for  life  with  his  chil- 
dren and  children's  children  coming  after 
him,  that  this  son  of  the  old  vikings  har- 
boured in  this  out-of-the-way  place.  There 
was  something  lacking  in  his  life  at  home 
which  he  hoped  to  find  out  here."  His 
tone  and  look  became  more  earnest.  "  Those 
high,  dark  mountains  were  beginning  to 
grow  oppressive;  they  seemed  to  close 
around  me.  I  felt  almost  crushed  under 
the  weight  of  an  accursed  public  opinion, 
and  I  dared  not  be  myself;  and  that 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      239 

is  the  most  terrible  existence  of  all  to  me. 
I  wanted  to  get  where  the  country  is  large, 
and  people  are  farther  apart ;  where  I  would 
feel  the  omnipresence  of  Nature  and  not 
society ;  where  I  could  live  in  sympathy 
with  her  laws,  according  to  my  own  faith 
in  morals,  in  everything,  according  to  the 
dictation  of  my  own  conscience.  I  cannot 
be  for  ever  hampered  in  every  direction  by 
somebody  else's  opinion  of  right  and  wrong, 
by  the  opinion  of  the  great,  ignorant  ma- 
jority, —  for  what  is  right  to  me  is  perhaps 
wrong  to  another. 

"  The  only  sin  is  sin  against  nature,  and 
it  includes  harm  to  our  fellow  beings. 
The  requirements  of  nature's  laws  are  very 
simple.  They  are  not  written  on  stone- 
slabs  in  so  many  paragraphs.  The  law  of 
nature  is  inscribed  on  the  star-spangled 
vault  above  us;  it  is  in  the  sea,  in  forests 
and  mountains,  in  the  air;  and  in  the  case 
of  humanity,  in  flesh  and  blood,  and  their 
issue,  —  the  soul,  the  mind.  And  the  con- 
cert of  it  all,  the  book  of  nature,  that 


240      UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

great  book  where  each  part  of  everything 
constitutes  a  word  in  the  chapters  of  her 
eternal  history,  —  from  the  smallest  atom 
or  the  thinnest  aeriform  fluid  to  what  we 
suppose  to  be  the  highest,  man." 

Irene  sat  on  the  piano-stool  facing  Lyder, 
who  had  sunk  into  one  of  the  deep-seated 
armchairs.  She  listened  with  apparent  in- 
terest. There  was  something  in  him  which 
she  never  had  found  in  any  one  before,  —  a 
directness,  an  outspokenness  combined  with 
an  extraordinary  emotionalism.  That  he 
was  a  strong  animal,  she  could  not  doubt; 
but  it  did  not  make  her  afraid  of  him,  for 
the  over-soul  in  him  was  stronger  than  the 
animal.  Already  she  had  confessed  to  her 
heart  that  he  had  —  unknown  to  himself, 
she  doubted  not — gained  a  great  power  over 
her;  indeed,  did  he  but  know  it,  he  had  but 
to  look  at  her  to  make  her  his  for  ever. 

How  Irene  admired  that  power  in  him ! 

The  storm  howled  in  the  red- wood  trees, 
the  rain  beat  against  the  windows, 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY     24! 

It  grew  dusk  in  the  large  parlour  at  Buena 
Vista. 

The  proprietor,  an  old,  asthmatic  French- 
man, was  in  the  office  gambling  with  some 
friends.  His  large,  fleshy  wife,  the  amiable 
Madame  Pellier,  kept  watch  by  his  side, 
deeply  interested  in  the  game. 

"  Sacrement"  he  said  to  her,  as  he  glanced 
out  into  the  storm,  "  sacrement,  ma  ckere" 
And  his  thoughts  hurried  back  to  his 
cards. 

In  the  slowly  darkening  parlour  Lyder  had 
seated  himself  at  the  piano ;  Irene  sat  close 
to  him  in  an  easy-chair,  resting  one  of  her 
slender  white  hands  on  the  case  next  to  the 
key-board,  looking  dreamily  into  vacancy. 

And  the  storm  roared  in  the  woods ;  it 
howled  in  the  large  chimney,  throwing  the 
sparks  into  the  room. 

From  the  treble  sounded  a  strange,  happy 
melody,  sometimes  shrill  and  stubborn;  then 
again  melancholy,  weird  and  loving,  moving 
lower  and  lower  by  degrees,  reaching  the 
bass,  growing  wilder,  more  boisterous,  roar- 

16 


242      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

ing  like  thunder  among  the  mountains. 
Then  came  lulls  through  which  sounded 
the  lamentation  of  the  huldre. 

Lyder  leaned  forward  over  the  keys,  when 
he  commenced  to  play;  but  as  his  inspira- 
tion grew,  he  gazed  straight  before  him. 
His  thoughts  came  chaotically;  he  un- 
tangled them  harmoniously,  weaving  into 
them  old  folk-songs,  and  many  melodious 
themes  of  Norse  composers. 

It  became  a  wild  dance  over  the  mountain- 
heath,  with  far-off  vistas  of  fiords  and  peaks, 
a  dance  with  the  huldre,  the  beautiful  lass, 
who  wept  when  she  laughed,  who  moaned 
when  she  sang,  who  looked  loving  when  she 
hated;  beautifully  shaped  and  tempting, 
with  large  blue  eyes,  when  her  hand  rested 
in  her  victim's,  but  who,  when  he  thought 
he  could  embrace  her,  showed  her  heifer's 
tail  and  suddenly  disappeared,  leaving  but 
the  sound  of  laughter  behind  her. 

There  came  a  lull  in  the  storm  without,  as 
if  it  were  gathering  its  breath  to  continue 
with  renewed  strength. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      243 

Lyder's  eyes  fell  on  the  narrow  white 
hand  resting  close  to  the  key-board ;  she 
had  not  moved  it;  and  with  the  quieting  of 
the  storm  came  a  calm  in  his  thoughts,  his 
melodies  became  limpid,  loving,  captivating. 
From  that  pale  hand  his  eyes  glided  along 
the  slender  arm,  moving  from  the  shoulder 
in  quick  succession  to  the  mouth  and  the 
eyes,  —  those  velvety  brown  eyes  with  the 
light  from  the  fireplace  reflected  in  them. 
There  they  lingered ;  while  the  melody  rose 
again  with  the  storm,  —  not  so  wild  as  before, 
more  human ;  more  and  more  caressing,  even 
in  its  strength. 

How  was  it  that  he  dared  to  keep  his  eyes 
on  hers  ?  How  was  it  that  the  melodies 
and  harmonies  glided  away  from  him  with- 
out the  least  effort?  He  had  never  played 
so  before.  And  that  white  hand  —  how  did 
it  happen? — rested  at  last  on  his  arm,  and 
those  large  eyes  glittered  like  embers  in  the 
reflection  of  the  fire,  much  closer  to  his ; 
and  as  his  own  hand  slipped  from  the  keys, 
he  heard  a  woman's  tender  voice  gently 


244     UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

say,  "  I  feel  so  strangely  happy.  Mr.  van 
Meeren,  your  music  has  intoxicated  me." 
And  she  put  both  hands  before  her  eyes, 
then  dropped  them  in  her  lap  and  said,  half 
in  revery,  "  How  beautiful  —  how  beautiful ! " 

And  he  did  not  embrace  her  ?  Not  even 
then? 

Perhaps  he  was  afraid  that  she,  like  the 
huldre,  might  disappear,  and  leave  nothing 
but  a  ringing  peal  of  laughter  behind  her. 

The  embers  on  the  hearth  cast  a  red  glare, 
reflecting  from  the  glass-covered  pictures 
and  the  large  mirror  at  the  end  of  the 
room. 

It  was  not  so  dark  but  that  they  could 
very  well  discern  one  another's  expressions. 

Outside  the  storm  continued  to  roar  with 
short  lulls  between  the  thundering  showers, 
when  the  forest  softly  sighed,  as  if  tired  after 
its  struggle  with  the  wind.  But  suddenly 
again  every  sound  seemed  whirled  away, 
and  the  storm  took  hold,  leaving  nothing 
but  the  cry  and  grumble  of  the  suffering 
woods. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      245 

Lyder  rose,  and  stood  with  his  elbow 
upon  the  mantelpiece,  his  head  resting  on 
his  hand. 

Irene  moved  over  into  a  low  rocking-chair 
in  front  of  the  fire.  Leaning  her  head  back- 
wards, she  rocked  slowly. 

She  felt  as  when,  after  a  long  sickness,  one 
is  for  the  first  time  brought  out  into  a  glow- 
ing summer  evening. 

After  a  long  silence  she  said,  — 

"  I  saw  your  fire  the  other  night."  Then 
she  added  slowly,  "  It  looked  so  pretty  from 
here,  so  weird,  —  I  thought  of  the  old  Norse 
beacons  with  their  flaring  red  flames  in  time 
of  war.  I  don't  know  how  I  came  to  think 
of  war,  for  the  evening  was  extremely  peace- 
ful, —  so  filled  with  soothing  music,  as  you 
would  have  said.  Still,  there  was  something 
wild  about  that  fire  so  far  up  on  the  moun- 
tain. I  imagined  that  the  witches  were 
dancing  around  it,  it  was  so  very  red.  Then 
I  thought,  '  Now  Mr.  van  Meeren  is  sitting 
by  it,  dreaming,  listening  to  the  voices  of 
night.'  You  know  you  have  told  me  you  were 


246       UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

a  dreamer.  Was  I  mistaken  ?  "  she  asked, 
looking  up  at  him. 

Lyder  smiled.  "  Indeed  they  were ;  the 
witches  danced  that  night  around  my  fire, 
yes,  into  the  very  midst  of  it." 

"  And  did  not  scorch  their  brooms  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  but  —  there  was  one  circling  close 
to  me  and  another  on  my  arm ;  the  first  was 
heavily  veiled,  the  other  "  —  he  stopped  for  a 
second,  looking  hard  at  her  —  "  my  fairest 
dream." 

"  And  who  was  she  with  the  veil,  who  hid 
her  face  ?  "  Irene  asked  gently.  "  Had  she 
come  from  afar  to  meet  you  up  on  your  hill- 
top by  your  red  fire?  And  the  other, — 
who  was  she?  Merely  phantoms,  both  of 
them,  creations  of  your  mind  ? " 

He  shook  his  head  with  a  melancholy 
smile  as  he  was  going  to  answer;  but 
she  spoke  before  him.  Laughing,  she 
said,  — 

"  Was  it  harmonies  embodied,  —  Mol  and 
Dur?" 

"You   cannot  guess  it.     They  were  not 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      247 

phantoms  of  my  mind."  She  saw  how  seri- 
ous he  looked  as  he  continued :  "  The  first 
—  the  first  was  Guri  Hakonsdatter.  Guri 
Hakonsdatter,"  he  repeated  slowly,  as  in 
thought,  looking  into  the  fire.  "And  she 
came  to  bring  forgiveness  to  me,  —  forgive- 
ness, Miss  Garland." 

He  seated  himself  in  a  low  chair  close  to 
her. 

"  She  came  to  give  peace  to  my  mind,  — 
the  poor,  noble  girl  who  is  no  more.  Can 
you  listen  to  the  saddest  story  of  my  life  ?  " 
he  asked,  looking  straight  at  her.  "  You  are 
not  like  other  women  I  have  met  in  this 
country.  I  feel  safe  in  speaking  to  you  about 
anything  I  choose." 

She  nodded,  and  said  simply,  "  Please 
tell  me." 

So  Lyder  told  her  the  story  of  himself  from 
far  back,  and  that  of  Guri  Hakonsdatter, 
ending  it  thus, — 

"  She  took  the  life  of  her  own  child,  —  my 
child.  They  found  her  dead,  where  she  had 
hidden  herself  from  the  merciless,  spying  eye 


248      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

of  society.  Can  you  wonder  that  I  fled  away 
to  the  wilderness  ?  " 

He  stopped  suddenly,  yet  did  not  take  his 
eyes  away  from  her. 

Irene  sat  pale,  looking  into  the  dying 
embers ;  then  she  slowly  raised  her  eyes,  tear- 
filled,  and  in  a  voice  vibrating  slightly, 
asked,  — 

"  And  the  other  one,  who  was  she  ?  " 

The  storm  kept  up  its  fury.  The  rain 
lashed  the  windows ;  there  was  utter  darkness 
outside  in  the  wild  night,  with  the  babble  of 
running  water  during  the  short  calms. 

After  a  long  pause  Lyder  arose  and  said 
slowly,  still  looking  at  her,  — 

"  The  other  one,  Miss  Garland,  is  but  a 
dream." 

There  sounded  heavy,  thumping  steps  in 
the  hall,  and  presently  Madame  Pellier  en- 
tered with  a  small  lamp  in  her  hand. 

"  Ah,  my  great  God  !  Excuse  me,  Miss 
Garland.  I  was  so  very  busy  in  ze  kitchen 
looking  after  zat  no  good  girl,  zat  I  forgot 
lighting  ze  lamps,  —  excuse  me." 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      249 

She  laid  a  large  piece  of  wood  on  the 
fire. 

"  It  is  a  storm  terrible,  it  is,  and  Mistre 
Van  had  a  long  walk  to  see  you,  Miss  Gar- 
land." She  spoke  in  a  significant  tone. 

"  Yes,  and  it  is  time  for  him  to  leave  now, 
my  good  Madame  Pellier,"  said  Lyder,  gayly. 
"  I  must  go  home  and  see  if  my  chickens 
have  blown  down  from  the  trees." 

Madame  Pellier  slapped  her  knee,  open- 
ing her  eyes  extremely  wide. 

"  And  are  Mistre  Van's  chickens  out  in  zat 
weazer  ?  "  she  asked  in  amazement. 

"  My  chickens  do  exactly  as  they  please, 
Madame  Pellier." 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes,  an'  zey  lay  no  eegs,"  an- 
swered the  old  woman,  laughing  hoarsely. 

After  lighting  the  lamps,  she  left  the 
room,  casting  a  short,  scrutinising  glance  at 
the  young  people. 

Lyder  buttoned  his  jacket,  preparatory  to 
putting  on  his  oilcoat. 

As  he  started  for  the  door,  Irene  suddenly 
laid  her  hand  on  his  arm. 


250      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

He  did  not  want  her  to  go  out  in  the  cold 
hall,  but  she,  smiling,  disobeyed  him. 

He  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  held  it  for  a 
moment.  He  longed  to  put  his  arm  around 
her,  only  for  once  —  for  a  first  and  last  em- 
brace. If  he  only  might  say  a  few  words 
which  would  tell  her  all  he  felt  for  her  !  Ah, 
but  how  dared  he,  with  all  the  experience 
which  lay  behind  him, —  poor  and  struggling 
too,  —  and  she  ? 

With  great  effort  he  conquered  the  im- 
pulse. 

He  encased  himself  in  the  outer  coat,  and 
said  lightly,  — 

"  Well,  Miss  Garland,  I  suppose  I  shall 
not  see  you  again  before  you  leave,  so  I  will 
say  good-bye  and  thank  you  for  your  friendli- 
ness to  me.  I  —  I  have  enjoyed  your  society 
so  very  much.  Indeed,  I  hope  to  meet  you 
again,  when  spring  comes ;  and  —  before  I 
go,  I  want  to  ask  you  one  favour  —  no,  two 
—  may  I  write  to  you  and  —  call  you  -my 
friend  ?  " 

"  May  you  ?  "     She  looked   at   him  with 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      251 

her  eyes  brimful  of  feeling.  "  You  may, 
my  friend.  It  will  make  me  so  happy.  We 
are  strangely  alike ;  I  feel  as  if  I  had  known 
you  long." 

"  Good-bye,  Irene,"  he  whispered,  and 
touched  her  forehead  lightly  with  his  lips, 
"  good-bye,  my  friend,  —  good-bye." 

The  wind  slammed  the  door  behind  him, 
and  he  was  gone. 

The  storm  howled  in  the  forest,  and 
moaned  in  the  deep  dark  canons. 

Irene  stood  for  a  second  and  gazed  at 
the  closed  door.  She  reached  out  her  arms 
towards  it ;  then  hid  her  face  in  her  hands, 
looked  around  to  see  if  she  had  been  ob- 
served, and  went  to  her  room. 

Going  to  the  window,  she  looked  out  into 
the  darkness,  watching  for  his  light  to  greet 
her ;  but  all  in  vain. 

Lyder  reached  his  cabin  after  a  hurried 
walk. 

He  had  come  to  strange  conclusions. 
She  had  said  so  little,  when  he  left.     Was 


252      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

it  with  her  as  with  himself,  —  confused  by 
love,  —  or  did  she  doubt  him,  even  feel  afraid 
of  him  ?  No  wonder  if  she  did,  he  thought, 
after  all  he  had  told  her  about  himself. 

"  Fool !  fool !  what  a  fool  am  I  to  be  honest 
in  a  world  of  hypocrisy !  My  lad,  why  don't 
you  howl  with  the  wolves  you  live  among, 
instead  of  being  silly,  sentimental,  honest ! 
You  will  never  succeed,  you  will  always  have 
to  struggle  with  poverty ;  and  when  you  die, 
there  will  be  no  one  to  hold  your  head. 
Fool !  fool !  why  don't  you  go  out  and  smile 
to  those  whom  you  hate,  creep  before  those 
who  are  rich,  flatter,  swindle,  —  why  don't  you 
kill  that  feeling  in  you  !  You  must  not  feel, 
my  lad,  you  must  be  hard  and  manly,  —  shut 
your  eyes  to  nature,  to  art.  Business,  busi- 
ness, money!  To  be  unscrupulous  means 
success ! 

"  But  this  little  girl  from  Buena  Vista  ? 
Oh,  if  she  were  a  little  homeless  lass,  but 
otherwise  just  as  now  —  so  tender,  so  beau- 
tiful, so  natural. 

"Irene!  Irene!" 


XXI 

BY  next  day  the  storm  had  spent  its 
force. 

The  third  morning  the  sun  rose  in  a 
cloudless  sky. 

Irene  Garland  sat  in  the  Buena  Vista 
coach  beside  Madame  Pellier.  They  were 
waiting  for  the  landlord,  who  never  was  on 
time. 

Away  up  on  the  mountain  a  faint  column 
of  smoke  rose  straight  into  the  clear  sky. 
There  was  no  flame  visible,  and  the  blue 
smoke  melted  into  the  pure,  fresh  air. 

"Oh,"  thought  Irene,  "if  I  might  climb 
out  of  this  waggon  and  walk  through  the 
fragrant  forest  and  chaparral  this  early  morn- 
ing; come  upon  him  unawares,  surprising 
him  at  his  work,  stand  there  and  look  at  him 
for  a  little  while,  and  then  call  his  name 
softly.  Would  he  not  open  his  arms,  would 
he  not  cry  for  happiness,  *  Irene !  Irene ! ' ' 


254      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

She  loved  to  hear  him  speak  her  name 
with  that  little  foreign  intonation. 

"  Oh,  my  friend,  I  read  your  message ; 
good-bye,  good-bye,  my  Norseman  !  " 

Mr.  Pellier,  who  at  last  had  arrived, 
took  his  place  in  the  waggon,  clicked  his 
tongue,  and  the  horses  started  off  at  a 
lively  gait.  It  was  all  down  hill  towards 
the  station. 

At  the  turn  of  the  road,  where  it  entered 
the  forest,  Irene  saw  for  the  last  time  Lyder's 
beacon.  The  smoke  rolled  in  thick  clouds 
into  the  deep  blue  canon. 

Here,  too,  was  the  large  gray  rock  by  the 
roadside,  where  she  had  met  him  for  the 
first  time.  And  all  around  —  the  great  forest 
which  he  had  helped  her  to  inhabit  with 
thoughts.  Everything  everywhere  spoke  to 
her  of  him.  Unexpectedly  the  tears  began 
to  fall.  She  tried  her  best  to  stop  them,  but 
with  the  effort  burst  into  sobs. 

Madame  Pellier  and  her  worthy  husband 
looked  greatly  astonished.  Irene  strove 
again  to  compose  herself. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      255 

"  I  really  can't  help  it,  Mrs.  Pellier,"  said 
she  ;  "  I  have  spent  such  a  heavenly  summer 
at  Buena  Vista.  I  shall  long  for  it  all  so 
very  much,  I  shall  indeed." 

The  whistle  of  a  locomotive  sounded  near 
at  hand.  The  echo  died  away,  and  soon  after 
the  train  rushed  on  again,  rumbling  through 
the  woods. 


XXII 

HIS  first  letter. 
His  letter.     It  lay  in  her  lap;  she 
had   fled  with   it  to  her  room,  —  her   own 
quiet   little  room,  away  from  the  noise  of 
the  city. 

She  forgot  where  she  was ;  her  fancy  had 
carried  her  to  the  mountains. 

"  His  letter,"  she  whispered.  His  thoughts, 
his  longings,  his  mountains,  his  air,  his  forest, 
his  cabin,  his  flowers  by  the  side  of  the  house, 
—  the  large  pansies  from  the  seed  his  sister 
had  sent  him,  —  and  his  music ! 

He  told  about  it  all  in  that  letter.  Her 
hands  lay  upon  it,  but  her  thoughts  were 
with  him. 

And  was  there  not  something  else  in  that 
letter  ?  Had  he  not  written  it  between  the 
lines  and  across  the  words,  in  the  margins, 
the  corners,  in  the  hasty  strokes  of  his  pen, 
where  he  had  not  even  given  himself  time 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      257 

to  lift  it  from  the  paper,  where  the  words 
were  connected  like  his  thoughts  —  all  of  it 
blurred  by  —  love  —  his  love ! 

How  could  she  know?  Not  in  a  single 
place  was  that  word  written,  and  still  it  was 
everywhere. 

She  must  read  the  letter  once  more.  Per- 
haps she  was  mistaken ;  perhaps  it  was  her 
own  love  and  not  his,  which  blurred  the 
writing. 

And  she  took  up  again  the  simple  yellow 
sheets  of  manila  paper. 

It  had  a  fresh,  pure,  unartificial  fragrance, 
just  like  the  forest.  She  kissed  it,  and  felt 
not  in  the  least  alarmed  at  herself  for 
doing  so. 

Yes,  here  was  one  place  —  love. 

"  How  much  I  should  love  to  go  with  you 
once  more  through  the  forest,  only  farther, 
higher  than  we  went  before.  We  would 
walk  into  deepest  solitude  —  I,  with  your 
hand  in  mine,  assisting  you  that  you  might 
not  fall  —  far  from  roads  and  trails ;  how  I 
should  love  it  1 " 

'7 


258      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

Was  nature,  then,  not  enough  for  him 
who  loved  nature  more  than  any  one 
else  ? 

If  she  were  there  with  him,  would  he  love 
it  more  because  he  loved  her  more? 

"  Oh,  Irene  Garland,  what  a  philosopher 
you  are ! " 

Nevertheless,  she  kissed  the  letter  once 
more  and  was  happy. 

Speedily  she  sent  him  an  answer;  while 
her  heart  was  yet  full  of  the  feelings  his 
letter  had  inspired. 

Irene  longed  for  spring.  Her  brother 
would  then  go  away  on  his  yearly  business 
trip  to  Mexico,  and  she  would  flee  back  to 
the  mountains. 

More  and  more,  in  her  letters  to  Lyder, 
did  she  lay  her  heart  open  before  him,  wish- 
ing him  to  know  her  as  she  was.  How 
thankful  she  felt  toward  him  for  understand- 
ing her  so  well!  In  fact,  did  they  not 
both,  day  by  day,  understand  one  another 
better? 

And  he  had  kissed  her ! 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      259 

She  joyed  to  remember  that,  but  felt 
thankful  to  him  that  it  was  her  forehead  and 
not  her  lips  he  had  kissed.  It  was  much 
better  so. 

Every  Sunday  morning  George  Garland 
went  alone  to  Sunday-school.  It  pained 
him  that  Irene  went  her  own  way  to  her 
room,  where  she  wrote  letters.  He  had 
spoken  to  her  about  it,  and  her  answer 
had  been  anything  but  satisfactory  to 
him. 

But  when  afternoon  came,  she  would  lay 
her  arm  in  his,  and  persuade  him  to  take  her 
out  among  the  sand  hills,  to  the  park  and 
the  ocean. 

George  Garland  found  it  rather  tiresome, 
this  walking  back  and  forth  on  the  beach. 
But  he  loved  his  sister  very  much,  and  she 
showed  him  in  many  ways  how  much  she 
enjoyed  it. 

"  Is  it  not  beautiful,  George  ?  See,  see 
that  great  blue  wave  coming  in  here ;  I  wish 
it  would  dash  over  me." 


26O      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

And  on  her  other  side  walked  a  third 
person,  who  enjoyed  it  all  with  her,  one  to 
whom  she  gave  her  best  thoughts. 

"  Even  if  he  never  becomes  more  than  my 
friend,"  she  would  say  to  herself, "  what  great 
happiness  !  But  he  loves  me,  loves  me,  and 
I—//" 


XXIII 

LYDER'S     letters     came     often     and 
regularly. 

She  read  them  over  and  over  again  during 
the  long  rainy  days  of  winter.  They  gave 
her  much  food  for  thought.  He  spoke 
freely  to  her,  as  to  a  good  old  comrade. 
Daring  in  his  opinions  and  ideas,  she  in  the 
beginning  often  rebelled  against  them. 
Then,  reconsidering,  she  saw  their  unconven- 
tional fairness  and  simplicity,  coloured  with 
the  deepest  conviction.  They  became  reve- 
lations of  liberty  to  her.  They  had  the  free, 
spontaneous  freshness  of  the  wooded  heights 
where  he  lived,  and  with  a  jubilant  heart 
she  made  his  thoughts  her  own.  She  began 
to  see  two  widely  separated  classes  of  people 
in  the  world,  —  those  who  are  in  the  majority 
and  those  who  are  among  the  few,  —  the  ones 
the  free-thinking,  —  the  others  the  many- 
imitating;  that  she  had  entered  among  the 


262      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY 

few,  and  before  her  lay  a  wide  long-forgotten 
country  to  be  explored  anew,  —  its  fathomless 
spring  of  simplicity  to  be  sounded,  its 
tales  of  the  infinite  to  be  listened  to.  She 
kept  his  letters  in  her  desk,  all  in  perfect 
order  as  they  came. 

George  Garland  had  long  ago  become 
suspicious  about  these  letters  for  his  sister, 
which  came  to  his  office  with  the  same 
postmark. 

At  last  he  could  conceal  his  curiosity  no 
longer. 

"Who  in  the  world  are  all  these  letters 
from,  Iry?" 

The  question  came  unawares,  though  she 
had  expected  it  long  ago.  He  was  to  her 
both  a  father  and  brother,  and  Irene 
blushed. 

"  Oh,  from  a  friend,"  she  answered  a  little 
shortly. 

"  Why,  of  course.  I  know  you  are  not  in 
business." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  she  replied  a  little 
saucily.  "  I  might  have  invested  my  money 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      263 

in  forest  lands  and  fruit-farms,  for  all  you 
know,  and  these  letters  are  inquiries  from 
intending  purchasers." 

"  Puh." 

"  No,  I  '11  tell  you.  I  am  going  to  be 
married,  that  is  it,"  she  said  roguishly. 
"  There  is  a  middle-aged  millionaire  with 
a  spotted  history,  but  a  fine  home,  fine 
carriages,  etc.  He  is  very  ugly,  with  a  lob- 
ster nose  and  a  wide  girth,  but  —  oh  me! 
—  all  the  money  he  has!  And  when  you 
have  money,  you  know,  you  have  everything ; 
some  people  even  seem  to  think  they  can 
bribe  St.  Peter  with  it,  when  some  day  they 
knock  at  the  portal  of  heaven.  I  have 
promised  to  go  back  in  spring  to  the  red- 
woods and  marry  him.  Perhaps  you  know 
him  by  name  —  of  course  you  do  —  Lyder 
van  Meeren." 

"  Why,  Irene,  what  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?  You  speak  so  lightly  about  such 
things.  You  —  you  —  it  is  not  becoming 
at  all ;  you  really  alarm  me  sometimes." 

She  put  her  arm  around  his  neck.     "  Don't 


264     UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

you  know  what  Emerson  says  ?  — '  The 
things  we  now  esteem  fixed,  shall,  one  by 
one,  detach  themselves  like  ripe  fruit  from 
our  experience  and  fall.  The  wind  shall 
blow  them  none  knows  whither — ' 

"  George,  you  are  such  a  —  well,  what 
shall  I  call  you  ?  —  so  very  kind,  but  so 
unsophisticated,  though  you  are  much  older 
than  I.  Can't  you  see  that  I  am  in  love, 
deeply,  deeply  in  love,  —  that  my  whole 
heart  is  filled  with  it,  that  it  makes  me  happy, 
that  these  letters  are  treasures  to  me ;  that  I 
long  for  spring,  when  I  may  go  back  to  my 
forests,  where  I  regained  my  health  after 
that  long  siege  with  the  fever,  last 
winter  ? " 

She  spoke  half  earnestly,  half  in  jest. 
George  thought  her  more  of  a  conundrum 
than  ever.  He  had  really  felt  worried  about 
her  lately;  despite  her  happiness,  her 
disregard  for,  her  ridicule  of,  old  established 
religion  and  social  institutions,  he  did  not 
consider  it  ladylike,  to  say  the  least.  She 
had  certainly  strange  notions  about  things. 


UNTO  THE   HEIGHTS   OF   SIMPLICITY     265 

One  evening,  walking  with  him  through 
the  streets,  she  asked, — 

"  Who  are  all  these  lonely  women  gliding 
into  darkness  and  shady  places  ?  " 

"  Nothing  for  you  to  know  anything  about, 
Iry." 

"  No  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Oh,  how  I  long  to  get  back  to  the  woods 
again  and  my  millionaire  1 " 

"  But,  Iry,  I  do  not  like  the  way  you  speak 
lately." 

"  No  ?  What  do  you  like,  then  ?  Doyou 
like  to  look  at  the  sallow,  hardened  faces  of 
these  women?  These  overdressed,  auda- 
cious-looking girls  —  almost  children  ?  Do 
you  like  that  hoarse  laughter  coming  from 
these  places  we  pass  ?  Do  you  mean  to  say 
you  are  a  Christian,  and  yet  do  not  rise 
against  it  all,  —  you  and  your  church, — 
against  a  social  system  which  breeds  such 
wickedness ;  against  this  fearful,  this  hellish 
power  of  money  ?  The  more  I  see  and  think 
of  it,  the  more  do  I  despise  such  a  church  !  " 


266      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

"  But,  Irene,  you  certainly  ought  to  moder- 
ate your  expressions  somewhat ;  it  seems  to 
me  —  you  —  " 

"  Moderate  ?  George ;  moderate  ?  Why 
not  say,  shut  my  eyes,  lie  to  myself,  and 
try  to  think  that  you  are  all  stepping  in 
the  footprints  of  your  Master?  That  all 
this  darkness,  with  its  horrid  fumes  and 
shrieks,  is  —  well,  rather  bad,  to  be  sure, 
but  —  such  is  the  world — there  must  al- 
ways be  sin.  Bah!  it  is  disgusting.  O 
George,  if  you  would  think  —  think.  When 
I  see  these  faces  of  women  who  sell  them- 
selves for  lucre,  I  long  —  yearn  to  be  back 
in  the  forest,  where  it  is  quiet,  so  pure  and 
beautiful,  where  civilised  humanity  has  not 
been  able  to  gather  its  filth,  where  I  feel 
that  which  is  good  in  me  grow  stronger, 
where  I  feel  I  have  a  soul.  And  if  the 
forest  should  capture  me  —  or  that  mil- 
lionaire, George,  so  I  wanted  to  remain 
there  —  I  wish  you  would  marry ;  you  know 
whom  I  mean.  I  know  she  is  fastidious; 
but  now  you  are  certainly  able  to  furnish 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      267 

her  with  the  luxury  she  needs;  and  if  Alice 
loves  you,  she  will  excuse  the  lack  of  more, 
and  wait  a  few  years  for  the  rest.  You  and 
she  are  in  many  ways  so  much  of  the  same 
mind.  You  both  take  an  interest  in  church- 
work.  I  —  I  —  do  not  like  her  very  much, 
you  know ;  but  what  matters  it  ?  /  shall 
be  with  my  millionaire,  and  when  you  come 
to  visit  us  in  our  forest  castle,  I  shall  be 
very  kind  to  her,  because  she  is  yours." 

They  had  reached  the  door.  He  made 
no  reply  to  her,  but  went  straight  to  his 
room.  He  was  tired,  he  said. 

The  fog  drifted  in  from  the  ocean,  and 
settled  over  the  bay.  All  night  the  fog- 
horn kept  up  its  tooting;  but  Irene  dreamed 
of  the  mountains.  She  saw  a  Norse  beacon 
on  a  California  hill.  She  walked  toward 
it,  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  forest  —  no 
end  to  it,  no  nearer  the  beacon.  Terrible 
anxiety  filled  her  —  she  must  get  there  or 
die  —  the  hardened,  haggard  faces  of  thou- 
sands of  sold  women  were  behind  her  —  how 
could  she  return  ?  "  Irene !  Irene !  "  it  was 


268      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

his  voice,  so  strong,  so  manly.  Deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  woods  she  went, 
higher  and  higher,  to  a  small  cabin  with 
pansies  by  the  wall,  —  large,  fine  ones  from 
Helga's  seeds. 
A  blue,  blue  sky  and  millions  of  stars  1 


XXIV 

IT  was  an  early  morning  in  spring. 
The  evening  before,  Irene  had  arrived 
at  Buena  Vista. 

She  had  walked  through  the  forest  to 
her  old  friend  the  gray  rock;  but  to-day 
she  was  going  farther,  —  to-day  she  would 
reach  those  sacred  places  of  absolute  soli- 
tude whence  Pan's  voice  so  often  had  whis- 
pered to  her. 

Lyder's  beacon  had  welcomed  her  last 
night  from  away  up  towards  Loma  Prieta. 
He  had  written  he  would  not  be  at  the 
station.  He  could  not  meet  her  there,  as 
he  would  wish  to ;  everybody  present  would 
read  his  feelings. 

In  his  last  letter  he  had  asked  her  if  she 
would  be  his  sister,  for  Helga  was  so  far 
away. 

Irene  had  returned  with  a  strange  feeling 
of  anxiety.  There  was  a  moment  when  she 


270     UNTO   THE   HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

doubted  whether  it  was  best  to  return ;  but 
just  as  quickly  did  she  make  up  her  mind 
that  it  was  the  very  thing  for  her  to  do. 

And  to-day  she  would  see  him ! 

She  felt  much  better  acquainted  with  him 
now  through  his  letters ;  yet  she  had  flattered 
herself  with  understanding  him  perfectly 
when  she  left  the  red-woods. 

She  had  not  found  desirable  qualities  only. 
Oh,  no;  there  were  great  faults  peeping 
through,  and  she  loved  him  for  those  faults. 

She  rose  very  early,  while  there  was  yet 
barely  a  faint  blush  on  the  sky  where  the 
sun  would  rise  above  the  crest  of  Loma 
Prieta.  The  faintest  kind  of  a  blue  haze 
rested  over  the  mountains.  The  forest,  with 
its  faint  hum  of  air  and  running  water, 
seemed  to  be  dreaming ;  while  a  few  delicate 
veils  of  vapour  rose  out  of  the  deep  canons. 
The  orioles  sang  their  love  song  in  the  oaks. 
The  air  was  saturated  with  the  fragrance  of 
wild  blooms  and  woodlands,  and  the  hum- 
ming-birds buzzed  past  her  in  swift  flight, 
hunting  for  the  gayest  flowers. 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

He  had  said  he  would  come  early,  but 
what  was  early?  Perhaps  he  thought  she 
was  a  late  riser,  and  it  would  yet  be  hours 
before  she  should  see  him. 

Madame  Pellier  called  her  to  breakfast, 
but  she  excused  herself,  —  she  did  not  feel 
hungry,  she  said  —  she  had  not  slept  quite 
well,  she  never  did  the  first  night  in  a 
strange  place;  she  would  make  up  for  it 
another  time,  try  her  best  to  make  her  stay 
unprofitable  to  Madame  Pellier.  Irene  forced 
a  little  laughter,  and  Madame  Pellier  shook 
her  head,  —  she  understood  it  all. 

"  Sacrement !  she  is  in  love  wiz  zat  Va-n," 
she  said  to  her  husband,  who  looked  at  her 
vacantly.  It  always  took  him  a  long  time 
to  get  perfectly  awake  in  the  morning,  if  in- 
deed he  ever  did. 

Irene  heard  footsteps  on  the  gravel  walk, 
—  firm  steps  of  a  man. 

He  turned  the  corner  by  the  acacias,  walk- 
ing leisurely  with  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of 
his  short  jacket. 

He  had  already  seen  her  from  the  road. 


272      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

He  knew  she  was  there  waiting  for  him,  but 
dared  not  look  up  —  not  before  he  was  at 
the  foot  of  the  steps. 

He  had  intended  to  show  her  in  one 
glance  all  his  happiness  in  being  with  her 
again.  But,  as  he  held  her  hand,  only  a  few 
commonplace  utterances  escaped  him;  he 
even  remarked  that  it  was  a  fine  morning ! 
But  she  did  not  resent  it;  she  seemed  to 
understand  him. 

"  How  I  have  longed  for  you,"  she  said. 
"  I  have  been  standing  here  for  over  an 
hour,  and  it  was  so  long  —  waiting  for  my 
friend." 

Ah,  that  wonderful  intonation  on  the 
words  —  my  friend  / 

"  I  saw  your  beacon,"  she  said,  as  they 
walked  down  the  gravel-path  toward  the 
gate.  "  I  watched  it  till  it  smouldered  away, 
then  I  felt  tired ;  and  yet  I  could  not  sleep, 
not  till  toward  morning,  when  I  suddenly 
awoke  with  a  great  fear  —  I  dreamt  I  had 
overslept,  and  you  were  gone." 

M  Indeed  ?    Gone  ?  —  not  much  danger  of 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      273 

that,  my  friend.  I  would  wait  patiently  a 
long  time  if  I  knew  certainly  you  would 
come  once." 

She  looked  at  him,  but  he  compelled  him- 
self to  look  away. 

He  was  taking  very  long  steps;  he  was 
nervous  to  get  somewhere,  and  she  tripped 
beside  him,  as  best  she  could,  for  a  while. 

"  Oh,"  she  breathed,  "  you  go  too  fast." 

He  smiled  and  slackened  his  gait,  then 
bethought  himself  and  took  her  hand. 

The  fragrant,  moist  air  vibrated  in  the 
long,  narrow  sunbeams  falling  between  the 
dark  tree-trunks,  gilding  in  spots  the  soft 
carpet  of  brown  needles. 

They  walked  into  deep  ravines  and  out 
again,  —  always  higher,  higher,  with  narrow 
vistas  between  the  tree-tops  of  shady  and 
sun-gilded  forest-covered  ridges.  Now  and 
then  they  were  closed  in  under  the  high 
green  vault,  among  immense  straight  pillars, 
seemingly  an  endless  labyrinth  of  them. 

She  wore  a  broad-rimmed  straw  hat,  fast- 
ened to  her  hair  with  a  long  pearl-headed 

18 


274      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF  .SIMPLICITY 

pin.  She  was  a  little  pale  at  first,  but  soon 
the  blood  rushed  to  her  cheeks.  Her  eyes 
glittered  with  a  wonderful  darkness  in  the 
shade  of  the  forest. 

They  were  silent  for  a  long  while.  They 
reached  a  large,  open  spot  covered  by  a 
many-coloured  carpet  of  flowers. 

He  stuck  yellow  poppies  into  her  dark  hair. 

He  did  not  ask  her  if  he  might ;  and  she 
did  not  forbid  him. 

The  gray  squirrels  barked  at  them  from 
the  tall  trees,  but  they  themselves  had  very 
little  to  say. 

"  Is  this  the  way  to  your  cabin  ?  "  she  asked 
after  a  while. 

"  Yes,  a  short  cut." 

"  Is  this  where  you  used  to  dream  and  long 
for  home  ?  " 

"  No,  not  here.  And  how  did  you  enjoy 
your  stay  in  the  city  ?  "  he  asked,  as  if  she 
had  not  told  him,  time  and  time  again  in  her 
letters,  that  she  yearned  to  get  away  from 
there. 

"  My  friend,"  she  answered,  "  remember  we 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      275 

are  now  walking  toward  the  '  Heights  of 
Simplicity ' ;  you  gave  them  that  name  your- 
self, and  here  you  come  to  me  and  ask  such 
a  question,  —  I,  who  in  thoughts  telegraphed 
you,  and  in  my  letters  have  told  you  all  about 
it  and  all  about  myself." 

"  Don't  scold,"  he  said,  a  little  rueful;  then, 
taking  a  long  step,  added,  "  Come,  let  us  be 
happy." 

"  I  am,"  she  answered  with  simple  con- 
viction. 

It  gladdened  his  heart,  and  he  sang. 
Then  they  walked  on  for  a  while  in  silence 
—  spellbound  by  thoughts. 

"  When  you  come  to  the  spot  where  you 
wrote  so  many  of  your  letters  to  me,  please 
tell  me." 

"  I  wrote  them  everywhere." 

"  Did  you  ?  "  she  said,  thankful. 

He  nodded. 

Coming  out  of  deep  thoughts,  he  asked 
abruptly,  — 

"  Is  it  ever  right  to  begrudge  ourselves  the 
fulness  of  love  ?  " 


276      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

"  I  must  answer  you  with  another  question, 
Which  is  the  greatest  simplicity  ?  " 

"  To  love,  and  openly  —  but,  oh,  there  are 
considerations." 

"  Most  of  which  are  hollow.  See  here," 
she  added,  grasping  fervently  both  hands 
full  of  flowers  and  grasses,  —  "  They  proclaim 
all  of  themselves  to  this  wilderness,  they 
throw  their  fragrance  to  the  winds  and  fear 
not." 

He  nodded  his  acquiescence. 

Then  they  talked  over  the  letters  they  had 
exchanged.  She  pictured  to  him  the  rapture 
of  his  first.  He  held  her  hand  closer  and 
thanked  God  for  her  love. 

"  It  was  well  you  came,"  he  said  quietly; 
"  everything  has  grown  more  beautiful.  Ah, 
I  even  look  better  in  my  own  eyes." 

"  And  I  —  //  "  she  sang  it  out  gleefully. 
"  You  have  helped  me  across  the  divide,  and 
I  see  the  full  clear  sunlight  of  a  simpler 
world  shining  in  our  faces." 

He  sang  to  her  a  little  melody  of  his  own 
which  one  lonesome  evening  had  grown  out 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      277 

of  his  soul  at  the  reading  of  a  rhythmic 
verse. 

They  bared  their  feet,  when  they  reached 
the  brook. 

"  These  polished  pebbles  are  made  for  me 
to  play  with,"  she  said,  with  an  almost  child- 
like expression  ;  "  they  are  wet  and  cool  and 
glossy,  nature's  kiss  upon  them  and  nature's 
dream-talk  about  them  —  some  day  they  '11 
reach  the  sea." 

But  in  his  heart  was  a  great  struggle.  He 
wished,  and  yet  wished  not,  that  she  would 
help  him  to  be  strong.  Instead  of  it,  she  made 
him  love  her  ever  more.  Ah,  she  had  stepped 
across  the  threshold,  and  become  part  of  his 
whole  soul.  How  could  he  then  ever  ask  her 
to  return  — for  his  own  sake  and  for  hers? 

They  stepped  out  of  the  woods,  crossed  a 
narrow  ravine  where  Pan  sat  in  a  long- 
needled  pine  playing  his  pipe,  looking  wist- 
fully at  them. 

They  walked  into  the  blooming  chemisal, 
where  his  bees  droned  and  where  in  the  sun- 
shine the  wild  sage  confided  its  warm  thought 


278      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

to  the  breezes.  They  walked  on  slowly  and 
dreamily  in  the  warmth  of  the  day  and  the 
warmth  of  their  hearts,  —  he  concerned,  she 
in  simplest  happiness. 

"  I  have  come  back  —  I  have  come  back," 
she  cried  suddenly  out  of  her  overflowing 
emotions,  "and  it  is  all  welcoming  me, 
and  I  give  you  all  of  myself,  oh,  wild,  wild 
hills  ! "  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Those 
were  the  tears  of  gladness.  They  blur  one's 
vision  sometimes  on  great  occasions  in  life, 
yes,  even  a  man's. 

So  Lyder  pressed  his  hands  over  his  eyes, 
and  complained  of  the  dazzling  light  after 
the  deep  shade  of  the  woods. 

"  See  !  "  —  he  spoke  of  a  sudden,  —  "  over 
yonder  in  my  cabin." 

"  Come,  come,"  she  cried,  "  we  are  on  the 
roof  of  the  hills,  with  all  the  intricate  world 
below  us." 

"  There  stands  the  throne  of  simplicity,  — 
yonder  gray  rock,"  he  broke  in. 

"Yes,  hurry,  hurry,  lest  we  lose  a  single 
moment  of  life." 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      279 

"  For  such  as  these  are  precious,"  he  added 
with  deepest  conviction. 

"  How  cozy  it  looks  here,1'  she  exclaimed, 
as  they  stood  by  the  low  steps ;  "  and  there 
are  more  of  Helga's  pansies." 

"  No,  excuse  me,  those  are  yours." 

"Indeed!  Quite  pretty,  are  they  not? 
Ah  me,  and  the  view !  the  fragrance  !  Oh," 
she  drew  in  long  breaths,  "  how  fresh  and 
quiet."  Her  face  beamed  with  happiness. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  —  "  yes,  and  peaceful. 
See  that  black  smoke-cloud  far  to  the  north- 
west. That  is  above  San  Francisco  Bay.  I 
have  often  watched  it  in  clear  weather,  and  I 
felt  sorry  for  my  friend  that  she  was  under  it. 
I  hoped  that  she  was  longing,  not  alone  for 
me,  but  also  for  all  this,"  —  he  made  a  sweep- 
ing gesture,  —  "all  this  blessed  country." 

"  And  here  you  live  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  sometimes  feel  happy." 

"  You  ought  to  be  so  always? 

"I  could  be  — but  — " 

"Well  — but?" 


280      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY 

"  I  am  poor." 

"  I  thought  you  did  not  care  for  money." 

"  I  don't." 

"Well?" 

"  I  do." 

"Well?" 

"  And  I  don't." 

"  That  tells  it  all,  I  am  sure."  And  both 
laughed. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  invite  me  in  ?  " 

"  You  ?  —  Well,  I  guess  I  shall  have  to." 

"  I  must  say  you  are  polite  this  morning." 

"  I  only  wish  to  retaliate  a  little.  But 
first,  I  must  introduce  you  to  a  true  friend 
of  mine,  who  lives  in  the  barn." 

Lyder  opened  the  barn-door,  and  a  yellow 
shepherd  dog  bounced  out  at  him  and  then 
at  her,  capering  absurdly  to  show  his  joy. 

"  Miss  Garland,  this  is  —  Vigo.  Now  pro- 
nounce it.  You  did  well.  And,  Vigo,  this 
is  my  little  friend  whom  I  have  longed  for, 
the  one  I  so  often  told  you  about." 

The  dog  seemed  to  understand ;  he  wagged 
his  bushy  tail  and  gave  a  short  bark. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      28 1 

Irene  laughed.  Rubbing  his  head,  she 
entered  into  quite  a  lengthy  dog-talk  with 
him.  Then  turning  to  Lyder,  "  Why  did 
you  never  tell  me  about  Vigo  in  your 
letters  ? " 

"  I  did  not  wish  you  to  know  I  had  even 
one  companion  ;  —  you  would  n't  have  felt 
so  sorry  for  me  in  my  loneliness,  if  I  had 
told  you  of  him." 

"  Ah,"  she  said  musingly,  "  I  see,  I  see. 
Now  take  me  to  your  cabin." 

As  he  swung  the  door  open,  "  Here," 
said  he,  "  is  the  bachelor's  nest." 

"  How  pretty ! "  She  pulled  the  long 
pin  out  of  her  hat,  as  if  ready  to  make  her- 
self at  home. 

He  had  decorated  the  room  with  wild 
flowers  and  branches  of  spruce.  The  Van 
Meeren  mansion  had  not  been  so  clean 
and  orderly  since  it  was  built.  The  top 
of  the  home-made  table  was  one  mass  of 
wild  lilies  and  ferns.  The  home-made  writ- 
ing-desk seemed  also  a  mass  of  blossoms. 
On  the  wall  above  Lyder's  bed,  in  a 


282       UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

carved  frame,  surrounded  by  a  wreath  of 
straw-coloured  chaparral-lilies  was  Irene's 
photograph. 

"  May  I  introduce  you  to  my  best  and 
only  friend  ? "  he  said,  pointing  to  her 
picture. 

"  Did  you  do  all  this  for  her  ?  " 

"  For  her  ?  For  whom  else  in  the  world 
should  I  do  it?"  he  asked  frankly.  "Out 
here  is  my  kitchen ;  here  are  cold  beans 
and  a  roasted  chicken,  and  that  is  all  you 
can  have  for  dinner." 

"  Come,  let  us  make  a  fire,"  she  said ;  "  it 
will  be  great  fun.  But  are  you  not  posi- 
tively extravagant — a  man  who  loves  money 
as  much  as  you  do  —  to  kill  such  a  fat 
rooster  all  at  once  for  one  occasion  ? " 

She  punched  it  with  a  fork,  laughing 
the  while. 

"  Irene,  you  are  absolutely  silly,"  he  said 
with  a  voice  choking  with  happiness,  gently 
tapping  her  fingers.  "  Hands  off,  will 
you  ? " 

"  Silly !    not   a   bit   of   it.     I   am   only   a 


UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF   SIMPLICITY      283 

child  again.  I  was  born  anew  a  year  ago 
and  grew  fast.  To-day  I  merely  babble ; 
by  and  bye  I  will  still  be  a  child,  but  know 
more,  and  some  day  will  put  on  the  glasses 
of  wisdom,  yet  a  child  —  ever  a  child  when, 
as  you  say,  I  have  reached  the  wisdom  of 
simplicity." 

The  shadows  of  the  tall  trees  had  grown 
long ;  some  reached  clear  across  the  narrow 
ravines.  A  warm  soft  breeze  came  like  a 
jolly  young  fellow,  with  fragrant  blossoms 
in  his  hair,  taking  long  and  sudden  skips 
and  jumps  over  the  hills  from  the  south. 
It  hummed  in  the  long-needled  pines  by 
the  cabin,  and  little  brown  birds  twittered 
sleepily  in  the  thickets. 

"  Now,"  said  Lyder,  "  I  will  do  my  chores, 
then  harness  the  horses  and  take  you  back, 
to  save  you  that  long  walk.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  it  is  getting  late." 

She  cast  an  interrogative  glance  at  him. 
"  All  right,  but  don't  harness  up  quite  yet ; 
there  are  a  few  things  I  want  to  do  in 


284      UNTO   THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

the  house,  —  clear  up  the  dishes  and  wash 
them." 

"  No,  no,  you  shall  not." 

"  Please  \et  me." 

"  No,  I  don't  want  you  to  bother  with  them. 
I  can  do  the  work  myself,  in  the  morning." 

"  Will  you  not  let  me  have  the  pleasure 
of  doing  it  ? "  she  asked  with  a  strange 
intonation. 

"  Yes  —  I  will  —  yes ;  "  and  he  walked  off 
in  search  of  his  cow. 

When  he  returned,  the  sun  was  setting. 

Irene  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  cabin 
listening  for  the  cow-bell.  She  had  plucked 
some  flowers  and  fastened  them  at  her  throat. 

The  fog-bank  far  to  the  northwest  above 
San  Francisco  Bay  had  altered  its  shape ; 
it  looked  like  some  fabled  monster  clutching 
the  hills  with  its  long  arms. 

Irene  gave  a  few  more  energetic  sweeps 
to  the  rough  steps,  and  looked  out  over  the 
undulating,  forest-covered  ridges. 

"  Peace  —  what  peace  1  "  she  spoke  to 
herself. 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      285 

Lyder  drove  the  cow  into  the  barn  and 
banged  the  door  shut. 

Irene  called  him,  — 

"  Come  quickly,  I  want  you  to  see  some- 
thing before  you  harness  the  horses."  And 
she  ran  towards  him,  took  his  hand,  and  led 
him  towards  the  cabin. 

Lyder  sighed.  He  could  not  tell  whether 
for  pleasure  or  for  some  secret  anxiety. 

"  Why  do  you  sigh  ?  "  she  asked  quietly, 
with  a  wonderful  expression  in  her  voice  and 
eyes.  "  Lyder,  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
about  something  —  not  now — long  ago  —  " 

"  Yes,  and  what  is  it  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  You  need  not  harness  your  horses,  for,  if  I 
must  go,  I  would  rather  walk  away  from  here, 
and  alone,  to  lose  myself,  get  lost  for  ever." 

He  strove  against  his  rising  emotions. 

"  But  —  are  you  not  tired  ?  "  There  was 
an  audible  vibration  in  his  voice. 

"  No — o,  one  could  never  be  tired  here. 
I  should  like  to  stay  for  ever."  She  laid  her 
head  on  his  shoulder ;  he  felt  her  tremble. 


286      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

"  Irene." 

"Lyder." 

"  You  must  not.  Do  not  tempt  me  to  aid 
you  in  throwing  your  life  away.  You  do  not 
know  how  I  have  fought  with  myself  to-day 
to  keep  back  some  words  which  constantly 
threatened  to  escape.  I  am  poor,  and  always 
shall  be ;  there  is  nothing  in  me  to  make  any 
one  happy ;  I  —  I  have  before  me  a  struggle 
for  which  I  am  not  suited ;  it  is  too  harsh, 
too  rough  for  one  so  tender,  so  beautiful  as 
you.  Please  be  a  good  little  girl,  and  do  not 
pour  oil  on  a  fire  I  must  smother." 

"  Because  you  are  poor  ?    Yes?    Come  on." 

They  entered  the  cabin. 

"  See  how  I  have  arranged  things ;  they 
are  more  handy  now,  and  —  these  flowers, 
you  picked  them  for  —  for  —  " 

She  looked  very  serious.  There  was  a 
little  twitch  in  the  dimples  by  her  lips 

"Irene!  No,  no,  Irene!  My  darling;  no,  no 
—  the  world  —  struggle  —  ah,  but  /  love  you  ! 
Indeed  I  do,  too  much  to  want  you  to  share 
your  life  with  me.  The  world,  what  would 


UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY      287 

it  say?  You  know  how  cruel  would  be  its 
condemnation.  You  so  pure;  I  could  not 
have  any  one  cast  a  disapproving  look  on 
you.  You  do  not  comprehend  what  suffer- 
ings it  would  bring  you, — the  contempt  and 
disdain  of  others.  True,  there  would  be  a 
few,  a  very  few,  perhaps,  who  would  under- 
stand that  what  tied  us  together  was  the 
highest  and  best  of  all,  —  love.  But  consider 
the  social  curse !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  '  the  solid  majority '  of 
the  unthinking  would  condemn  us,  but  we 
will  be  honest  with  the  world,  be  just  what  we 
are  ;  and  I  think  the  time  is  soon  coming,  in 
fact  it  is  partly  here,  when  honest  conviction 
will  be  honoured  and  not  condemned.  But  I 
fear  not  the  world  and  its  scorn ;  I  have  your 
love  and  my  own,  that  is  enough  to  make 
me  happy.  Tell  me  that  I  must  go  back  to 
that  smoke-cloud  over  yonder,  and  I  will 
walk  alone  down  the  hill,  into  the  forest, 
on  and  on  and  on  —  Oh  me  !  Why  not  let 
me  stay  here  ?  I  must,  must,  dear.  As  long 
as  you  love  me,  will  I  stay,  your  struggles 


288      UNTO    THE    HEIGHTS    OF    SIMPLICITY 

also  my  struggles,  your  hopes  and  your 
pleasures  also  mine,  —  comrades  in  the  battle 
of  life.  Oh,  let  me!" 

Her  voice  choked,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears; 
she  tried  to  hide  her  face  on  his  breast.  . 

He  led  her  gently  out  where  the  dew  was 
falling,  where  the  air  was  filled  with  the  scent 
of  millions  of  flowers,  with  the  fragrance  of 
woodland  and  mountain  wilderness. 

And  he  sang  to  her  as  he  had  never  sung 
before.  And  when  the  mysterious  voices  of 
night  awoke  in  the  woods,  he  led  her  back 
step  by  step,  to  the  cabin,  she  still  with 
her  head  on  his  shoulder,  and  lips  slightly 
parted,  feeling  herself  wafted  far  beyond 
the  harshness  of  daily  life,  —  far  away, 
where  everything  seemed  fragrance,  noth- 
ing but  fragrance. 


THE   END. 


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